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AMERICA    AS    I    SAW    IT 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK   •    BOSTON   •    CHICAGO  •    DALLAS 
ATLANTA  •    SAN   FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  LIMITED 

LONDON  -    BOMBAY  •    CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 

THE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OF  CANADA,  LTD. 

TORONTO 


AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

OR 

AMERICA   REVISITED 


BY 


MRS.  ALEC-TWEEDIE 

AUTHOR    OF     "THIRTEEN     YEARS    OF    A    BUSY    WOMAN'S    LIFE," 

"THROUGH  FINLAND   IN   CARTS,"   "SUNNY   SICILY," 

"HYDE    PARK,     ITS    HISTORY    AND 

ROMANCE,"    ETC. 


WITH  MANT  ILLUSTRATIONS 


Nefo  gorfc 
THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 


All  rights  reurved 


COPYRIGHT,  1913, 
Bv  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 


Set  up  and  electrotyped.     Published  October,  1913. 


Norfoooto 

J.  S.  Cushing  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith  Co. 
Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


PREFACE 

WHAT  am  I  to  say  to  precede  this  cubist- 
impression  picture  of  a  great  country  ? 

Odd  notes  at  odd  moments,  often  made  at 
lightning  speed,  and  under  all  sorts  of  circum- 
stances and  conditions,  lie  herein. 

"If  you  write  about  America  and  don't  lay 
eulogy  on  with  a  spoon  you  will  never  be  able  to 
set  foot  in  the  United  States  of  America  again, 
they  will  hate  you  so,"  said  a  friend. 

I  don't  believe  it. 

Americans  are  older  and  wiser  and  kinder  nowa- 
days, and  will  accept  the  good,  and  the  bad,  and 
the  honesty  of  both,  I  feel  sure. 

My  first  visit  to  the  United  States  was  in  1900- 
1901,  on  my  way  to  Mexico  to  write  "Mexico as 
I  Saw  It,"  which  has  run  into  many  editions  since 
then.  It  appeared  at  five  dollars,  with  three  hun- 
dred illustrations,  and  is  now  brought  up  to  date, 
and  published  in  abridged  form  at  twenty-five 
cents.  Cheap  sales  of  goods  generally  mean  de- 
terioration ;  but  cheap  editions  of  books  luckily 
denote  the  popularity  of  the  originals. 

My  second  visit  to  America  was  in  the  winter 
of  1904,  when  a  telegram  received  in  Chicago  from 
Ex-President  General  Diaz  invited  me  to  return 
to  Mexico  for  his  seventh  election.  It  was  then 


vi  PREFACE 

I  commenced  "  Porfirio  Diaz,  the  Maker  of  Mod- 
ern Mexico."  After  much  persuasion,  for  he  is 
a  strangely  reserved  man,  he  supplied  diaries, 
maps,  and  private  letters,  and  the  book  has  been 
translated  into  other  tongues. 

In  the  autumn  of  1912,  I  crossed  the  Atlantic 
again  —  this  time  on  pleasure  bent,  and  to  have 
a  holiday  and  a  good  time  generally  after  com- 
pleting my  thirteenth  book,  entitled  "Thirteen 
Years  of  a  Busy  Woman's  Life,"  which  in  a  few 
months  was  in  its  fourth  edition. 

The  "New  York  Times"  then  asked  me  for  a 
series  of  articles  on  America.  I  refused,  for  Amer- 
ica has  been  hypersensitive  and  antagonistic  even 
to  friendly  criticisms  ;  but,  on  consideration,  I  ac- 
cepted the  compliment,  and  when  the  publishers 
wished  these  articles  enlarged  for  a  book,  finally 
arranged  with  the  Macmillan  Company  of  New 
York  to  write  "America  as  I  Saw  It."  *  *  # 

One  day  four  months  later  a  woman  came  into 
my  cabin  off  Brazil,  at  Easter,  1913,  and  asked  to 
see  a  book  in  the  making. 

The  manuscript  was  unearthed  from  under  the 
pillows  which  acted  as  paper-weights  on  the  sofa, 
and  as  the  leaves  were  turned  over,  she  exclaimed, 
"Why,  all  the  paper  is  different  shapes  and  sizes, 
and  all  the  pages  different  types." 

She  was  right.  It  was  a  mighty  untidy  produc- 
tion. 


PREFACE  vii 

"The  first  pages,  in  black  letters,"  I  explained, 
"were  dictated  straight  to  a  machine  beside  my  bed 
before  breakfast  in  Chicago.  This  official  busi- 
ness-paper was  done  from  shorthand  notes  by  a 
secretary  in  Ottawa.  The  small  type  on  smaller 
paper  was  dictated  at  odd  moments  to  a  stenog- 
rapher in  New  York,  who  took  her  shorthand 
notes  away  and  duplicated  them.  These  larger 
pages  on  thin  paper  were  typed  at  the  British 
Legation  in  Buenos  Ayres,  from  manuscript  writ- 
ten at  sea  between  New  York  and  the  Argentine. 
Lastly,  these  purple  pages  were  typed  on  board 
the  Fandyck  between  Buenos  Ayres  and  South- 
ampton, from  pencil  scratchings  made  at  an 
Argentine  ranch  in  tropical  heat  in  February. 
These  untidy  scribblings  have  been  put  together 
from  rough  notes  during  forty-nine  days'  voyag- 
ing, often  on  stormy  seas.  Hence  this  curious 
jumble,  and  now  you  know  how  a  book  should 
not  be  written.  People  who  find  it  difficult  to 
concentrate  their  thoughts  at  sea  sufficiently  to 
read  a  book  may  realise  a  tiny  bit  what  it  means 


to  write  one." 


Twenty-six  thousand  miles  alone,  without  a 
maid  or  a  secretary,  made  writing  a  hard  task. 

"Is  it  finished  ?"  she  asked. 

"No,  not  yet.  It  will  have  to  be  re-typed  and 
corrected  in  duplicate  in  England ;  one  copy  will 
be  posted  to  America  to  be  illustrated  and  printed 


viii  PREFACE 

in  the  States,  while  the  same  will  be  repeated  in 
London."  *  *  * 

If  I  have  omitted  subjects  other  authors  have 
mentioned,  it  is  probably  because  I  have  pur- 
posely not  read  any  book  on  America  by  anyone, 
not  even  by  Dickens,  so  what  I  have  said  is  my 
own,  and  I  alone  must  take  all  blame. 

Alas,  I  missed  many  dear  old  friends  in  Amer- 
ica during  my  last  visit,  friends  such  as  Colonel 
John  Hay,  Secretary  of  State ;  Colonel  Aldace 
Walker,  Chairman  of  the  Atchison  Topeka  Rail- 
way, in  whose  private  car  I  travelled  ;  Mr.  Lorenzo 
Johnson,  Chairman  of  the  Mexican  Railway,  in 
whose  private  car  I  also  spent  many  happy  weeks  ; 
Dr.  Horace  Howard  Furness,  the  great  Shake- 
spearian writer ;  Mrs.  Louise  Chandler  Moulton, 
the  poet,  and  others.  They  have  gone  to  their 
long  rest ;  but,  thank  God,  I  still  have  many 
friends  left  in  the  United  States. 

I  love  America,  her  women,  her  oysters,  her 
grapefruit,  her  rivers,  her  roses,  her  express  ele- 
vators (lifts),  and  her  quaint  ways ;  her  eager 
life,  her  kindness  to  the  stranger  within  her  gates, 
and  —  dare  I  say  it  --  her  serene  satisfaction  with 
all  and  everything  American. 

LONDON,  ,9,3.  E.  ALEC-TWEEDIE. 

N.B.  It  is  interesting  to  note  the  difference 
between  English  and  American  humour  in  the 
illustrations. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  NOISY  NEW  YORK i 

II.  WHERE  ARE  THE  MEN?  (CULTURED  CHICAGO)  33 

III.  OUR  AMERICAN  SISTERS         ....  64 

IV.  DISAPPEARING  HOME  LIFE     ....  90 
V.  CLUBLAND  AND  CHATTER       ....  107 

VI.  ENTERTAINING  IN  THE  DARK        .        .        .125 

VII.  SCRAMBLE  FOR  KNOWLEDGE  ....  148 

VIII.  THREE   ELECTIONS  AND  SOME  REFLECTIONS  176 

IX.  WHAT  is  AN  AMERICAN?        ....  202 

X.  LAND  OF  ASSIMILATION.     (AMUSEMENTS)       .  246 

XI.  TRANSPORTATION 271 

XII.  AN   ENGLISHWOMAN'S  FIRST   NIGHT  ON    AN 

AMERICAN  SLEEPING-CAR         .         .        .  293 

XIII.  THE  OTHER  AMERICA.     (Busv  BOSTON)        .  308 

XIV.  MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS        .        .        .        -330 
XV.  NIAGARA  UP-TO-DATE 347 

XVI.  A  MISSISSIPPI  DARKY  CAKE  WALK      .        •  357 

XVII.  PRAIRIE  PEEPS 379 

XVIII.  WONDERFUL  WASHINGTON      ....  401 

XIX.  HETEROGENEOUS 430 

XX.  CHRISTMAS  AND  EDISON         ....  448 

XXI.  WHAT  is  IT  ALL  ABOUT?        ....  468 


LIST    OF    PLATES 


FACING   PAGE 


The  Plaza  by  Moonlight 36 

Fifth  Avenue 120 

The  Metropolitan  Museum           ....  200 

The  Chicago  River 280 

New  York  in  Rain  (Park  Avenue)        .         .         .  336 

A  Downtown  Canon  in  New  York                 .         .  390 

New  York  from  the  Upper  Bay   ....  420 


xi 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 


American  Hustle  is  a  Myth  .  15 
How  well  their  Daughters  learn  to  be  English  Duch- 
esses!               .         •         •         -23 

American  Visitors'  Guide  to  Society      .         .         .         -35 
Britishers  are  not  so  Slow  as  their  American  Cousins 

Imagine          ...                           ...  45 

What  could   she  do  with  $300  if  she  wanted  to  see 

America?        ........  65 

Wilson  is  Wabbly  on  Suffrage 87 

Why  the  Public  Restaurants  are  so  Popular          .         .  91 
Servants  may  be  a  Difficult  Problem  in  England  but 

nothing  compared  with  America    ....  97 
Men  so  far  have  had  more  Chances      .         .         .         .109 

Young  Men  will  have  to  be  encouraged  to  Travel         .  117 

Souvenir  Hunters 131 

The  Hotel  Proprietor  and  the  Visitor  from  a  Foreign 

Country 143 

"Psychology"  as  an  Aid  in  the  Choice  of  Careers  for 

the  Young     ........  149 

Rag-Time  or  Sport,  Star-spangled  Joy  Everywhere       .  169 

Qualifications  necessary  for  an  American  President       .  177 
A  Strenuous  American  Campaign          .         .         .         .185 

How  an  American  President  is  Made    .         .         .         .  197 

Opening  Scene  at  the  American  National  Theater         .  207 

All  Out  for  the  Duke 223 

An  Eugenic  Wedding 247 

Are  the  American  Police  really  so  Naughty?          .         .  285 

The  Men  are  not  Pretty  to  look  Upon           .         .         .  295 


xiv  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


As  Terrible  as  Ever  .......  301 

The  Athenaeum,  Boston 311 

The  Old  South  Church,  Boston 321 

We  have  to  concede  Many  Things  to  the  American, 

but  we  cannot  concede  Manners  .  .  .  -333 
In  London  Good  Society  vetoed  them  from  the  Draw- 

ing-Rooms 345 

A  Southern  Homestead 359 

The  Water  Front,  New  Orleans 367 

An  Old  Southern  Church 375 

Why  Americans  find  London  Dull  ....  403 

What  an  American  Candidate  has  to  Speak  Against  .  421 

A  Bit  of  Old  New  Orleans 435 

A  Hotel  in  the  South 445 


AMERICA    AS    I    SAW    IT 


AMERICA  AS   I   SAW  IT 

CHAPTER   I 
NOISY  NEW  YORK 

HYPER-SENSITIVENESS  is  an  American  sin. 

What  is  to  be  said  of  a  people  who  resent  all 
criticism  ? 

Why  is  fair  and  square  comparison  with  other 
lands  so  often  taken  as  personal  insult  ? 

Praise  is  distrusted,  and  blame  resented. 

Why  is  the  universal  reply  to  any  banter,  "We 
are  still  so  young"  ? 

Qui  s9  excuse  s9  accuse. 

Even  children  grow  up.  They  pass  from  baby- 
hood to  the  days  of  standing  up  in  their  little 
"cages,"  and  on  to  school  and  Varsity.  They 
grow  and  grow,  expand  and  expand,  and  what  is 
forgiven  in  the  child  is  aggressive  in  the  adult. 

"Still  so  young."  What  a  paradox.  Half 
the  forbears  of  the  American-born  citizens  seem 
to  have  arrived  in  that  ever-elastic  Mayflower  in 
1620;  at  least  a  Britisher  —  called  a  foreigner,  by 
the  way --is  continually  informed  so;  and  if 
that  is  really  a  fact,  half  of  the  population  of  the 


2  AMERICA  AS   I  SAW  IT 

United  States  is  sprung  from  a  stock  established 
on  the  land  three  hundred  years  ago. 

.  That  is  not  so  very  young,  is  it  ?  And  it  is 
nearly  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  since  England 
was  foolish  enough  to  make  herself  unpopular  and 
lose  her  hold  ;  so  for  one  hundred  and  fifty  years 
America  has  not  even  had  a  foster-mother.  That 
again  does  not  make  America  a  swaddling  babe. 

Why,  in  1791,  her  public  debt  was  already 
£7,546,847,652. 

No,  no,  America  is  not  young.  She  is  in  the  full 
force  of  her  strength  and  maturity.  She  is  a  great 
country,  and  has  a  great  people,  so  it  is  a  little 
childish  and  peevish  to  be  always  sheltering  herself 
under  the  cloak  of  babyhood.  We  might  just  as 
well  excuse  ourselves  in  Great  Britain  on  the  plea 
of  senile  decay  ;  but  we  are  not  senile,  not  a  bit  of 
it.  We  are  all  alive,  full  of  faults  and  fancies ; 
napping  occasionally,  perhaps,  but  more  often  wide 
awake.  Sometimes  even  suffering  from  insomnia, 
strange  as  it  may  seem  to  the  American  mind. 

Parents  and  children  are  seldom  companions. 
The  baby  is  the  plaything  of  the  father  and  mother  ; 
the  young  child  has  to  be  guided  and  encouraged ; 
the  grown  boy  or  girl  has  to  be  guarded  and  in- 
spired ;  the  youth  or  maid  has  to  be  gently  ridden 
on  the  snaffle,  as  they  resent  restraint ;  the  young 
man  or  woman  likes  to  show  independence  and 
indifference,  and  break  away. 


NOISY  NEW  YORK  3 

Not,  then,  till  the  age  of  twenty-five  or  thirty  — 
or  better  still  forty  —  does  the  child  stand  on  the 
same  footing  as  the  parent.  Then,  and  not  till 
then,  are  they  companions  in  the  true  sense  of 
companionship.  Both  are  fully  grown,  and  en- 
dowed with  strength. 

Great  Britain  was  the  parent ;  the  United  States 
was  the  child.  Both  are  in  the  full  power  of 
maturity,  of  mutual  respect  and  confidence. 
They  are  chums  by  habit,  relatives  by  blood, 
comrades  by  circumstance,  and  allies  by  under- 
standing. 

"How  do  you  like  our  rush?" 
"What  do  you  think  of  our  politics  ?" 
"Have  you  had  your  blood  pressure  taken?" 
are  three  questions  asked  the  stranger  three  times 
a  day. 

i.  I  do  not  find  any  particular  rush;  there  are 
slow  people  and  busy  people  in  every  land.  We 
generally  find  time  to  do  exactly  what  we  want  to 
do  in  this  world  ;  and  we  all  find  excuses,  readily 
enough,  to  leave  undone  all  those  little  things 
which  irk  us.  They  are  always  talking  of  hustle 
and  rush.  If  the  people  of  America  were  not 
slow  by  nature,  and  slower  by  habit,  they  would 
not  wait  for  hours  at  barbers'  shops  to  be  shaved, 
and  loll  about  on  sofas  during  the  process.  Men 
would  not  waste  precious  moments  standing  in 


4  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

queues  to  have  their  boots  blacked,  or  sit  in  rows 
and  rows  and  rows,  at  all  hours  of  the  day  and 
night,  in  hotel  lounges.  The  women  are  just  as 
slow  and  wasteful  of  time  over  manicure,  hair-drill, 
face  massage,  and  general  "prinking"  (titivating). 

One  can  be  busy  running  round  a  steamer's 
deck ;  but  that  is  only  a  fetish  of  energy. 

Americans  are  also  inclined  to  be  unpunctual, 
and  in  their  unpunctuality  waste  many  precious 
moments  daily.  Moments  are  like  pence,  they 
become  of  inestimable  value  when  they  are  col- 
lected together. 

Of  course,  they  are  slow  in  America,  and  they 
show  their  slowness  by  not  understanding  how 
slow  they  really  are.  American  hustle  is  a  myth. 
It  is  merely  false  haste. 

2.  Reporters  cannot  drag  opinions  from  me  on 
American  politics,  because  a  hundred  millions  of 
people  are  divided  into  three  camps,  on  their  own 
politics,  so  that  my  opinion  would  be  of  no  par- 
ticular value,  to  give,  or  turn  a  vote ;   although  I 
did  offer  to  become  an  ENGLISH  WOMAN  PRESI- 
DENT OF  THE  WHITE   HOUSE   if  they  wanted    a 
Fourth  Party  to  scramble  over.     American  politics 
are  becoming  cleaner  every  day,  while  ours  are 
tending  the  other  way. 

3.  Blood   pressure   has   not   yet   disturbed   my 
peace,  but  if  I  hear  about  it  every  day  and  all 
day  for  much  longer,  I  shall  begin  to  think  mine 


NOISY  NEW  YORK  5 

had  better  be  tested.     It  would  be  a  pity  to  be  so 
far  behind  the  times  and  so  unfashionable  as  not 
to  be  able  to  answer  glibly :  — 
"Oh,  my  blood  pressure  is  — " 

In  1900,  when  I  first  crossed  to  America, 
everyone  had,  was  going  to  have,  or  wanted 
to  have,  appendicitis.  In  1904,  they  were  all 
talking  Christian  Science  or  divorces.  It  was 
quite  demode  not  to  be  associated  with  one  or 
another  of  these  forms  of  excitement.  In  1912, 
the  split  in  the  Republican  party,  the  Treachery 
of  Roosevelt  or  his  Godliness,  the  Stupidity  of 
Taft  or  his  Virtue,  the  Genius  of  Wilson  or  his 
Villany,  were  the  uppermost  subjects.  Or  — 
don't  let  us  forget  that  all-important  factor  — • 
everyone's  blood  pressure  turned  up  cheerily  as 
a  spice  to  conversation.  People  have  even  been 
known  to  go  about  with  little  machines  for  testing 
their  own  and  their  friends'  blood  pressure,  so 
important  has  the  subject  become. 

Alas,  no  meal  is  complete  to-day,  in  any  land, 
without  some  sort  of  medical  discussion  and 
personal  diagnosis,  occasionally  even  accompanied 
by  the  weighing  of  food. 

Each  voter  during  many  weeks  of  my  last  visit 
thought  his  man  "the  only  man  to  save  the  coun- 
try," and  each  voter  worked  himself  into  some 
kind  of  fever  for  months.  Every  important  man 


6  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

feared  he  would  be  put  out  of  office,  while  every 
would-be  important  man  hoped  to  receive  emolu- 
ment ;  but  the  morning  following  the  election, 
all  was  still,  just  as  though  nothing  had  happened. 
Even  the  stocks  and  shares  barely  moved  ;  only  the 
nation's  blood  pressure  remained  to  worry  over. 

The  United  States  is  a  vast  subject,  too  vast  a 
problem  to  discuss  in  little  pages.  It  contains 
too  many  conglomerate  nationalities,  too  many 
theoretical  political  economists.  One  can  only 
be  superficial  and  give  snap-shots  of  the  things 
that  strike  a  British  cosmopolitan  mind  in  that 
vast,  progressive,  wealth-producing,  and  often 
surprising  country,  —  a  land  of  "natural  re- 
sources," as  the  stranger  is  told  as  repeatedly  as 
that  "the  country  is  young"  or  "everyone  hustles 
over  here." 

I  love  America.  Why,  of  course  I  do,  or  I 
should  not  have  crossed  the  Atlantic  six  times  to 
visit  her  shores.  We  see  faults  most  distinctly 
in  the  'people  we  love  best,  and  so  it  is  with  a 
traveller  and  writer  in  the  lands  they  care  for 
most. 

Passion  is  blind  and  fleeting,  love  is  reasonable 
and  long-lived ;  but  it  is  a  mixture  of  oil  and 
vinegar. 

Women  are  jealous  of  other  women's  wealth. 
They  are  covetous  of  material  things,  of  popularity, 
and  social  success.  Men  are  seldom  so,  but  men 


NOISY  NEW  YORK  7 

are  jealous  too,  a  hundred-fold  more  jealous  by 
nature.  Jealousy  is  often  the  finger-post  to  am- 
bition in  youth,  and  a  ruffled  rose-leaf  in  posses- 
sion at  a  greater  age.  A 

True  love  such  as  the  Mother  country  has  for 
America  is  unselfish,  and  true  love  strengthens 
with  years.  We  'criticise  each  other  as  we  would 
not  allow  any  one  else  to  criticise  either  of  us. 

"Where  do  you  come  from,  ma'am'?"  is  a 
constant  question  put  to  the  visitor  in  the  States. 

"From  London." 

"London,  Canada?" 

"No,  England." 

"Ah,  London,  Eng.!" 

It  really  is  amusing  to  be  asked  which  London 
one  has  come  from.  To  us  there  is  only  one  Lon- 
don, our  London ;  the  LONDON.  After  all,  our 
London  is  as  big,  aye  bigger  than  the  whole  of  New 
York  and  Chicago  put  together.  We  number 
some  seven  million  souls.  There  are  as  many 
people  in  our  London  as  in  the  whole  of  Canada, 
or  in  the  whole  of  the  Argentine,  but  we  don't  call 
it  "the  biggest  city  in  the  world."  We  Britishers 
are  content  to  call  our  London  "London"  without 
a  prefix  or  even  a  suffix  of  "Eng." 

London  is  dirty,  London  is  old.  It  dates  back 
2000  years  from  the  Roman  occupation,  poor, 
dear  decrepit  old  London,  with  its  trees  and  its 
shrubs  and  its  window-boxes  galore.  London  is 


8  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

a  Garden  City,  surrounded  by  golf  clubs,  and 
England  one  large  park. 

Another  constant  remark  of  a  personal  nature, 
made  by  tram-conductors  or  hotel  servants,  is  :  - 

"Guess  you're  English  ?" 

"Yes,  what  makes  you  think  so  ?" 

"I  knew  it  by  your  ac-cent." 

To  anyone  who  does  not  talk  Cockney,  nor  York- 
shire, nor  Somerset  dialect,  it  is  somewhat  amusing 
to  hear  they  have  an  ac-cent.  American  and  English 
are  only  approximately  the  same  language. 

They  are  always  pulling  down  in  America ; 
putting  up  or  pulling  down  again. 

Twelve  years  ago  the  Grand  Central  Railway 
Station  in  New  York  was  being  built. 

"It  is  the  biggest  in  the  world, "  people  said; 
and  they  added,  "It  will  soon  be  ready." 

Four  years  later  that  station  was  still  being 
built,  but  "It  will  soon  be  done  now,  and  it  is 
the  biggest  station  in  the  world,"  the  stranger 
was  again  told. 

Eight  years  later,  it  was  still  being  built. 

And  it  is  still  "the  biggest  station  in  the  world  ", 
and  is  still  "nearly  finished". 

Well,  I  spent  so  much  time  at  Christmas,  1912, 
trying  to  find  my  train,  over  rubble,  under  hoard- 
ings and  bill-boards,  and  across  scrap-heaps,  that 
I  lost  it.  No  wonder  they  have  so  many  bath- 


NOISY  NEW  YORK  9 

chairs  about ;  I  nearly  hired  one  myself,  but  a  nice 
darky  porter  took  me  in  hand  instead,  and  steered 
me  about  under  iron  girders,  between  baskets  of 
bricks  and  bags  of  sawdust,  telling  me  mean- 
while : — 

"This  is  the  biggest  station  in  the  world,  ma'am, 
and  it  is  nearly  done." 

An  echo  of  the  story  of  twelve  years  before. 
Victoria  Station  in  London  took  about  half  that 
time  to  build,  methinks. 

How  delightful  it  is  that  America  has  instituted 
porters  at  last ;  and  what  a  joy  that  they  have  a 
high  platform  now  in  a  station  like  the  Grand 
Central.  Let  us  drink  to  the  health  of  high 
platforms,  and  hope  they  may  soon  appear  over 
the  length  and  breadth  of  the  land.  Those  acro- 
batic crawls  up  slippery  steps  into  Pullman  cars 
were  not  only  exasperating,  but  dangerous. 

A  house  in  process  of  erection  in  the  States  is  a 
curious-looking  object,  especially  when  it  is  thirty 
or  forty  stories  high.  They  all  appear  like  glorified 
Eiffel  Towers,  but,  to  begin  with,  they  are  nothing 
more  nor  less  than  a  steel  frame  without  bricks, 
somewhat  in  the  shape  of  a  box,  but  quite  light 
and  airy.  From  the  top  windows  of  an  office 
one  could  see  an  erection  of  the  kind  which  had 
already  reached  the  tenth  or  twelfth  story.  Then 
came  several  more  tiers  of  steel  frame,  naked, 
gaunt,  ghastly,  but  above  it  all  the  roof  -  -  already 


io  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

made  —  crowned  the  summit.  They  had  begun 
that  house  at  the  bottom ;  they  had  then  put  on 
the  top,  and  they  had  left  out  the  middle  bit. 
They  certainly  build  on  plans  of  their  own,  hard 
to  understand,  in  this  land  of  topsy-turvydom. 

The  early  Victorian,  Dickensian  type  of  Ameri- 
can who  cherished  a  bitter  and  unenlightened 
animosity  for  all  things  British,  is  not  even  yet 
utterly  extinct,  though  —  be  it  said  —  he  or  she 
is  to  be  found  for  the  most  part  now  only  in  the 
unlettered  minority. 

An  American  of  this  sort  rebels  fiercely  against 
the  mere  notion  of  the  possible  merit  of  any  coun- 
try, or  anything,  outside  of  what  he  calls  "God's 
own  stamping  ground." 

His  remarks  of  a  patriotic  nature,  full  of  wholly 
unconscious  humour,  might  be  a  source  of  joy  to 
"G.  B.  S."  or  "G.  K.  C."  ;  for  instance,  one  of  these 
hopeless  bigots  actually  said  in  all  sincerity :  — 

"Why,  foreigners  aren't  anything  more  than  a 
lot  of  fakes,  anyway,  and  doesn't  our  American 
money  prop  up  the  decayed  thrones  of  Europe  ? 
You  bet  — " 

A  lady  of  the  same  calibre,  with  unreliable  ideas 
on  history,  informed  a  Britisher,  "That  it  was  only 
the  other  day  that  England  tried  to  take  this  coun- 
try, anyhow  !" 

This  grade  of  American  will  invariably  refer 
to  English,  Scotch,  and  Irish  people  as  "for- 


NOISY  NEW  YORK  1 1 

eigners."  Even  the  coveted  and  much-pursued 
"English  Dock"  is  no  exception,  however  proudly 
the  plutocratic  States  take  him  into  their  families. 
One  must  not  blame  the  American  for  striving  to 
climb ;  the  blame  rests  with  the  representative  of 
some  fine  old  European  house.  It  is  far  worse 
to  sell  ancestry,  blood,  and  traditions  than  to 
buy  them ;  the  vendor  falls  from  his  ideals,  the 
purchaser  merely  aspires  to  ascend. 

The  morality  of  marriage  is  imperative  for  the 
good  of  a  nation.  Without  it,  society  falls  to 
pieces.  Men  must  avoid  side-slips  ;  decent  women 
should  not  be  expected  to  marry  indecent  men.  | 

New  Yorkers  are  far  too  busy  making  money, 
fighting  for  dollars,  and  spending  them  as  fast 
as  they  can,  to  worry  about  small  details.  This 
rush  for  money  may,  of  course,  only  be  an  inci- 
dent ;  it  may  only  be  the  desire  of  the  American 
for  power,  just  as  his  endless  questioning  is  a 
desire  for  knowledge.  If  America  takes  unto 
itself  a  coat-of-arms,  that  coat-of-arms  should  be 
a  huge  note  of  interrogation  emblazoned  on  a 
dollar  shield. 

The  American,  God  bless  him,  always  wants  to 
know  things.  He  is  right.  We  cannot  know 
things  unless  we  take  the  trouble  to  learn  them. 

"Money-making  is  the  lowest  form  of  intel- 
lect," said  one  of  America's  most  prominent  law- 
yers to  me. 


12  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

"How  so?" 

"Often  it  is  mere  chance;  often  it  is  merely 
cheap  cunning  that  amasses  wealth.  The  creative 
brain  is  the  real  brain.  The  arts  are  the  only 
things  that  really  count.  Amassing  money  be- 
comes a  disease  and  seldom  consorts  with  a  big 
brain/' 

I  suppose  I  looked  surprised  for  he  continued : 
"A  man  may  be  a  genius,  but  if  he  has  not  a  genius 
for  making  money,  he  is  no  good  in  America. 
That  is  probably  why  the  arts  are  so  little  en- 
couraged, and  why  the  professions  generally 
have  not  the  high  position  they  have  in  other 
lands." 

He  was  right.  Money  counts  above  and  beyond 
everything.  Money  counts  far  beyond  brains, 
in  America. 

In  the  United  States,  and  in  the  Argentine, 
money  is  the  god  ;  money  makes  and  rules  so- 
ciety, and  money  mars  many  homes.  There  is 
great  similarity  in  the  social  status  of  men  and 
women  in  Buenos  Ayres  and  New  York ;  and  yet, 
intellectually,  the  women  of  the  two  countries 
are  Poles  asunder. 

New  York  sets  the  pace,  and  inaugurates 
fashion  for  the  whole  United  States.  New  York 
is  very  much  nearer  to  Wall  Street  than  to  Wash- 
ington, so  it  is  only  natural  that  more  interest 
should  be  taken  in  dollars  than  in  politics,  and 


NOISY  NEW  YORK  13 

that  the  women  should  imperceptibly  follow  the 
cue  of  the  men. 

New  Yorkers  simply  throw  money  about,  and 
live  in  magnificent  restaurants  and  public  places ; 
it  is  often  a  mad  rush  of  social  excitement  to  kill 
time. 

The  wealthy  Britisher  spends  his  money  dif- 
ferently from  the  American. 

He  has  a  beautiful  country  place,  with  lovely, 
well-kept  gardens,  sweeping  lawns,  and  green- 
houses, which  latter  are  usually  his  wife's  hobby. 

That  wife  knows  every  flower,  every  shrub,  and 
she  revels  in  her  blooms  and  her  fruit. 

The  man  prides  himself  on  his  farm,  his  model 
dairy,  his  pedigree  stock.  He  is  enthusiastic 
over  his  shooting,  his  horses,  and  his  hunting,  and 
takes  pride  in  his  forestry. 

He  and  his  wife  are  closely  interested  in  public 
affairs,  in  politics,  in  municipal  government,  the 
cottage  hospital,  and  schools,  in  the  welfare  and 
individual  lives  of  their  tenantry. 

There  is  still  something  of  the  personal  interest 
of  the  old  feudal  baron  lurking  in  his  breast,  and 
his  wife  is  still  the  bountiful  lady  chatelaine  who 
distributes  soup  in  time  of  sickness. 

In  America  such  places  are  extremely  rare ; 
shooting  and  hunting  are  almost  unknown,  ten- 
antry barely  exists,  the  private  gentleman  takes 
no  interest  in  politics,  and  his  time  is  spent  enter- 


14  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

taining  at  hotels  in  a  gorgeous  fashion,  or  going 
from  one  smart  seaside  resort  to  another.  His 
wife  dresses  more  elaborately  than  her  English 
sister ;  he  eats  richer  fare,  and  pays  double  what 
the  British  squire  would  give  for  her  pearls  and 
his  champagne. 

The  lives  of  the  wealthy  are  totally  different  in 
the  two  countries.  The  rich  American  often  leaves 
his  own  shores  to  settle  in  England.  He  appreci- 
ates our  life.  The  rich  Englishman  stays  at  home, 
and  yet  it  was  the  young  ambitious  Britisher  who 
made  most  of  the  great  railways  of  America,  Can- 
ada, Mexico,  Argentine,  and  Brazil ;  who  carried 
out  their  tramways,  and  their  water  service,  their 
electric  light,  and  financed  and  pioneered  many  of 
the  prosperous  lands  of  to-day. 

The  Britisher  was  not  asleep  then,  and  the 
Britisher  is  not  asleep  now.  "He  does  not  say 
much,  but  he  is  a  devil  to  do,"  as  the  Irishman 
said. 

The  Englishman  has  a  motor-car  of  moderate 
price,  but  he  sees  that  it  is  kept  clean.  The  same 
class  of  American  runs  one  that  is  more  luxurious, 
costs  twice  as  much,  and  is  quite  content  to  let 
it  come  to  the  door  dirty,  while  he  is  explaining 
how  many  thousand  dollars  it  cost. 

New  York  had  grown  since  I  first  saw  it. 
Yes,  it  has  grown  up,  inasmuch  as  it  is  more 


NOISY  NEW  YORK 


16  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

sure  of  itself,  more  self-possessed,  and  it  has  grown 
up  because  its  buildings  are  nearer  the  skies. 
The  first  time  I  saw  sky-scrapers  was  thirteen 
years  ago,  when  I  thought  them  perfectly  hideous. 
They  merely  seemed  blocks  of  prison-like  simi- 
larity, with  soulless  eyes  of  bricks  and  mortar. 

That  is  all  changed  undoubtedly.  "The  Times" 
Building,  which  was  the  pioneer  attempt  at  some- 
thing really  architectural  in  the  sky-scraper  line, 
reflected  Italian  beauty.  To-day  there  are  many 
buildings  that  are  really  beautiful,  and  their  sheer 
height  gives  a  certain  dignified  magnificence  which 
makes  New  York  a  much  more  imposing  and  ma- 
jestic city  than  it  was  at  the  dawn  of  the  century. 

Fifth  Avenue  is  certainly  one  of  the  finest 
streets  in  the  world.  Standing  near  the  Central 
Park,  and  looking  toward  Washington  Square  or 
the  Old  Bowery,  one  cannot  but  be  impressed  by 
the  variety  of  the  buildings,  the  good  taste  many 
of  them  display,  and  the  delightful  sky-line  they 
represent.  Fifth  Avenue  is  something  to  be 
proud  of. 

Fifth  Avenue,  too,  has  grown.  Thirteen  years 
ago  many  private  houses  were  to  be  found  "right 
down  town"  ;  now  they  seem  to  be  pushed  farther 
and  farther  up  toward  Harlem,  and  the  hotels  and 
shops  (Oh,  no,  one  must  not  call  them  "shops"  ! 
that  word  is  prohibited ;  one  must  call  them 
"stores")  are  creeping  along  towards  the  north 


NOISY  NEW  YORK  17 

at  a  tremendous  pace.  In  another  thirteen  years 
business  houses  will  probably  have  monopolized 
the  whole  of  Fifth  Avenue  as  far  as  Central  Park. 

By  the  bye,  Bond  Street  must  be  a  shock  to  the 
American  visitor  [with  its  funny  little  buildings. 
The  houses  are  old-fashioned,  the  street  is  very 
narrow,  and  one's  patience  is  tried  by  the  conges- 
tion of  traffic  therein.  There  is  nothing  to  im- 
press the  stranger  by  outward  view,  and  yet  its 
renown  is  world-wide  as  the  resort  of  all  the 
smart  shopping  world.  Old  age  must  be  the  ex- 
cuse for  its  dowdiness,  and  we  ought  to  prohibit 
traffic  or  leave  it  to  pedestrians  as  they  do  in  the 
narrow  streets  of  Rio  de  Janeiro. 

Central  Park  is  pretty.  It  is  somewhat  small 
and  modern,  and  possesses  one  good  statue ;  but 
it  would  not  be  fair  to  compare  it  with  Regent's 
Park,  which  is  the  most  beautiful  park  in  London, 
or  with  Hyde  Park,  one  of  the  most  historic  spots 
in  our  country. 

Nobody  can  help  admiring  the  wonderful  homes 
of  New  York.  Mr.  Carnegie,  a  quiet  little  gentle- 
man who  intends  to  die  a  poor  man,  lives  mean- 
while in  a  splendid,  dignified,  Georgian,  red-brick 
palace.  Mr.  George  Crocker  has  built  a  house 
in  the  style  of  Louis  XVI ;  James  B.  Duke  has 
a  home  of  simple  white  marble.  Mr.  Phipps 
has  an  Italian  house.  W.  K.  Vanderbilt,  both 
father  and  son,  have  homes  in  early  French  Re- 


1 8  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

naissance.  New  York  is  nothing  if  not  cosmopoli- 
tan in  its  tastes.  It  is  this  very  versatility  in  its 
beautiful  private  homes  that  makes  the  uniform- 
ity of  the  sky-scrapers  endurable.  They  say  the 
interior  of  Mr.  Whitney's  house  is  most  charm- 
ing. 

Those  houses  of  the  wealthy  in  New  York  are 
really  splendid,  and  American  architecture  to-day 
is  perhaps  the  best  in  the  world.  Two  of  these 
mansions  belong  to  two  of  America's  most  famous 
men.  The  late  Mr.  Pierpont  Morgan's  father 
was  a  rich  man,  and  could  afford  to  give  him  the 
best  possible  education  as  well  as  to  bring  him  up 
in  an  artistic  and  lovely  home.  Mr.  Andrew  Car- 
negie began  at  the  bottom  of  the  ladder.  Those 
men  were  the  strongest  factors  in  the  States  when 
this  century  dawned ;  Mr.  Morgan  as  a  financial 
power,  and  Mr.  Carnegie  as  a  captain  of  in- 
dustry. 

No  two  men  could  be  more  unlike.  Mr.  Morgan, 
with  his  strong  intellect,  his  individuality,  his 
active  mind  and  body,  his  inherited  literary  tastes, 
his  genius  for  finance  —  which  is  far  more  than 
mere  money-getting  —  had  that  quick,  ready 
adaptability  to  the  situation  which  seizes  an  oppor- 
tunity when  it  arises.  From  birth  and  education 
Mr.  J.  Pierpont  Morgan  was  well  equipped  to  fill 
an  important  role. 

On  the  other  hand,  Mr.  Andrew  Carnegie  had 


NOISY  NEW  YORK  19 

little  education  in  his  simple  Scotch  home  ;  no  prep- 
aration by  heredity  or  environment  to  take  his 
place  in  the  great  world.  He  attained  his  posi- 
tion and  wealth  by  shrewdness  and  industry. 
This  persevering  little  man,  who  built  his  own  iron 
trade  about  him  in  Pittsburgh,  was  most  sagacious 
in  the  business  itself,  and  wise  in  the  selection  of 
his  staff.  If  a  man  did  not  prove  all  he  hoped,  he 
paid  him  and  sent  him  off  at  an  hour's  notice.  If 
a  man  served  his  purpose,  he  stood  by  him  and 
backed  him  well. 

It  is  rare  to  find  three  qualities  together  in  one 
man :  conception,  organization,  and  execution ; 
and  Andrew  Carnegie  possesses  all  these.  A 
moment  came  when  the  United  States  Steel  Cor- 
poration took  over  his  vast  iron  concern  for  hun- 
dreds of  millions  of  dollars.  Then  Carnegie 
showed  his  greatness  of  character.  The  little 
man  living  in  the  big  red  house  knew  he  could 
ask,  and  could  obtain,  more,  had  he  insisted ;  but 
he  did  not  insist.  He  was  generous  to  the  men 
who  had  helped  him  climb,  and  Carnegie  made 
many  millionnaires.  To-day  he  is  busy,  trying 
to  learn  how  he  can  most  suitably  give  the  bulk 
of  his  money  back  to  the  people,  by  the  labour 
of  whose  hands  he  made  it. 

Both  these  men  have  been  charming  to  me  per- 
sonally, and  it  is  easy  to  understand  how  they 
deserve  the  great  position  they  attained ;  each 


20  AMERICA  AS   I   SAW  IT 

with  a  distinct  individuality ;    each  strong ;    each 
able  to  command.     And  yet  one  saw  at  a  glance 
how  different  they  were,  one  from  the  other. 
******* 

All  flirtation  is  done  in  public.  To  the  Brit- 
isher's amazement  on  first  visiting  the  United 
States,  he  finds  there  are  no  doors  between  the 
public  rooms.  The  idea  originates,  no  doubt,  in 
the  supposition  that  this  arrangement  is  cooler 
in  summer,  and  warmer  in  winter,  in  consequence 
of  the  excellent  scheme  of  heating ;  but  it  is  a 
little  embarrassing  to  discuss  one's  family  affairs 
under  these  circumstances. 

When  the  threshold  of  an  ordinary  American 
home  is  once  crossed,  there  are  no  more  doors, 
and  everybody  forgets  about  locks.  One  lives 
in  public.  One  feeds  in  the  dining-room  feeling 
that  a  dozen  people  in  the  adjacent  rooms  may 
be  listening  to  every  word.  If  one  plays  the 
piano  in  the  drawing-room,  every  other  occupant 
of  the  house  has  to  be  soothed  or  irritated  ;  for  no 
door  can  be  shut  even  to  muffle  the  sound.  If 
Tom  proposes  to  May,  every  member  of  the  family 
and  every  domestic  in  the  place  can  hear  their 
sweet  nothings.  Privacy  there  is  none.  It  is  a 
doorless  existence.  Even  the  bedrooms  often 
open  out  of  one  another,  and  a  bathroom  is  not 
unusually  halfway  between  the  two.  Perhaps 
we  are  grumpy  folk  in  England,  but  we  like 


NOISY  NEW  YORK  21 

privacy.  Most  of  us  love  to  be  alone,  to  think 
alone,  to  work  alone,  at  least  during  some  hours  of 
the  day,  and  anyway  we  like  our  homes  to  our- 
selves. 

Every  North  American  couple  seems  to  have 
a  mother.  It  may  be  his  mother  or  it  may  be  her 
mother ;  but  there  is  nearly  always  a  mother 
-"our  mother/'  and  she  generally  makes  her 
home  with  the  family.  In  South  America  it  does 
not  end  with  the  mother.  A  man  marries  an 
entire  family,  as  a  rule,  and  dozens  of  them  live 
under  one  large  roof,  and  get  along  in  the  most 
perfect  manner.  The  Latin-American  races  have 
huge  families,  and  then  these  combine  housekeep- 
ing, and  twenty,  thirty,  or  forty  persons  share 
expenses  in  a  fine  palazzo.  One  does  many  strange 
things  in  South  America ;  one  takes  to  cotton 
gloves  in  the  heat,  powders  one's  nose  till  it  looks 
like  a  flour  bag,  drives  out  in  the  dark,  grows  fat 
and  indolent,  and  perspires  at  every  pore ;  while 
the  North  American  takes  exercise,  keeps  thin, 
and  is  taut  and  tidy  under  all  circumstances. 

The  Britisher  and  the  North  American  closely 
resemble  one  another ;  the  South  Americans  are 
Italians,  or  Spaniards,  sometimes  mixed  with  a 
little  Indian  or  negro  blood.  The  North  and  the 
South  American  peoples  are  totally  different  races, 
and  oh  !  how  either  hates  to  be  mistaken  for  the 
other. 


22  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

America  is  the  land  of  extremes.  It  is  the  land 
of  wealth  and  it  is  the  land  of  poverty.  Much  of 
the  wealth  has  been  easily  made,  made  without 
responsibility ;  for  there  are  no  old-landed  prop- 
erties to  be  kept  up,  no  old  titles  to  be  main- 
tained, no  old  retainers  of  generations  to  be  looked 
after  ;  and  therefore  the  wealth  is  widely  scattered, 
and  dollars  are  thrown  round  in  an  amazing 
fashion. 

The  poverty  is  equally  amazing.  There  are 
sweat-shops  everywhere.  One  has  only  to  travel 
any  warm  evening  in  a  Sixth  Avenue  Elevated 
car  and  see  the  dens  of  misery  where  people  work 
long  into  the  night,  to  realise  a  little  what  this 
sweated  labour  means. 

At  the  same  time  the  average  immigrant  gets 
along,  learns  to  be  self-respecting,  and  in  a  few 
months  wears  a  collar.  The  engineers  work  in 
gloves ;  this  sounds  silly,  but  it  is  not  from  snob- 
bishness, it  is  from  wisdom,  because  they  save 
their  hands  and  accomplish  more.  We  might 
with  advantage  copy  the  washing  and  dressing 
rooms  provided  for  employees  in  all  establishments 
in  the  States  ;  there  the  workers  don  their  working 
clothes  on  entering ;  and  their  toil  over,  they  wash 
and  change  again,  so  that  in  the  street  they  are 
clean,  and  tidy,  and  proud  of  themselves.  It  is 
a  splendid  scheme. 

Skilled  labour  does  not  appear  to  be  in  demand, 


NOISY  NEW  YORK 


24  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

and  human  lives  are  quickly  ground  out  in  the 
machinery  of  civilisation,  which  thrusts  aside 
many  men  and  women  as  worn  and  weary  after 
forty. 

In  the  docks  in  New  York  and  Buenos  Ayres 
there  are  more  murders  than  almost  anywhere 
else.  Both  are  unsafe  after  dark.  Both  towns 
are  colossally  rich  and  amazingly  poor.  The 
hidden  poverty  of  the  States  is  appalling.  Strind- 
berg  must  have  been  thinking  of  such  poverty 
when  he  wrote,  "I  will  not  wish  you  happiness, 
for  there  is  no  happiness ;  but  the  strength  to 
endure  life.'*  Strindberg  was  religious  and  yet 
despairing. 

America  is  a  land  of  surprises.  Every  time  I 
visit  the  States,  every  day  I  spend  in  America,  I 
am  impressed  by  the  luxury,  the  wild  magnificent 
luxury,  the  wealth  thrown  about,  the  stupendous 
extravagance  ;  why,  even  the  newspaper  boys  give 
themselves  that  audacious  dollar  air ;  and  yet 
how  little  simple  comfort  there  really  is. 

Gorgeous  food,  often  badly  served ;  lavish 
clothes,  without  ladies'  maids  to  put  them  on ; 
splendid  hotels  and  houses,  generally  without 
pictures  or  books,  although  the  work-basket  is  in 
evidence,  as  there  is  a  bedspread-mania  in  the  air, 
and  every  woman  seems  to  have  a  square  for  one 
on  hand  ;  money,  money,  wealth,  wealth ;  and 


NOISY  NEW  YORK  25 

yet  there  are  hotels  where  one  cannot  have 
one's  bed  turned  down,  nor  a  hot-water  bottle 
filled. 

Every  person  is  not  a  millionnaire,  and  cannot 
afford  what  he  wants.  Those  who  are  millionnaires 
do  not  always  know  what  they  do  want.  One  can 
only  generalise  on  habits,  homes,  people,  customs, 
and  ways.  Individually  one  would  like  to  pause 
and  praise  all  the  nice  things  that  have  happened 
to  oneself,  but  that  would  not  be  a  general  or 
honest  criticism  of  the  whole  impression  of  Amer- 
ica to  a  practical,  travelled  mind. 

The  homes  in  which  the  writer  has  stayed  have 
been  perfectly  delightful,  the  people  have  been 
cultured  and  charming,  but  they  do  not  make 
America,  any  more  than  Buckingham  Palace 
makes  London ;  such  homes  stand  out  in  remem- 
brance as  bright  stones  in  a  diadem,  but  they  are 
not  America ;  that  is,  the  America  of  the  people. 

I  have  been  smothered  in  aliases,  yes,  aliases! 
Other  people's  names  than  my  own  decorate  my 
person.  At  every  house  I  stopped  at  in  the  States 
the  laundress  boldly  stamped  in  black  ink  upon 
my  linen  the  name  of  the  person  with  whom  I 
chanced  to  be  staying.  Result,  I  am  covered  with 
a  nomenclature  of  Brown,  Jones,  and  Robinson. 
Were  an  accident  to  befall  me,  it  would  be  really 
difficult  for  anybody  to  establish  my  identity ; 


26  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

and  I  begin  to  doubt  it  myself  sometimes,  on  look- 
ing at  the  heterogeneous  collection  of  names,  or 
room  numbers  stamped  by  hotels  on  my  garments. 
In  Europe  the  laundress  puts  a  cross,  or  a  number, 
in  red  or  blue  cotton  on  the  linen,  which  is  easily 
removed,  and  does  not  disfigure  one's  frills.  In 
America  they  stamp  odd  names  and  numbers  in 
ink  all  over  one's  treasured  lingerie ;  but  they 
wash  it  beautifully. 

We  have  only  one  sauce  in  England,  and  many 
religions,  tradition  asserts ;  but  America  has  only 
one  god,  and  many  advertisements.  Sometimes 
one  wonders  if  there  is  any  square  inch  of  America 
that  will  not  some  day  be  covered  by  a  bill-board. 

The  night  advertisements  are  quite  a  revelation. 
Does  it  really  pay  to  spend  so  much  money  to 
amuse  children  and  tickle  the  fancy  of  the  adult  ? 
Broadway  at  night  is  as  amusing  as  a  cinemato- 
graph show.  From  end  to  end  it  is  a  constantly 
revolving  kaleidoscope  of  electric  lights.  One 
moment  there  is  a  motor-car,  high  up  against  the 
sky,  the  next  there  is  a  lady  who  winks  and  goes 
out,  and  then  appears  a  man  playing  polo.  He 
even  lifts  his  club  in  electric  light,  and  hits  the 
ball.  The  next  it  is  a  baby  crying ;  when  lo  ! 
another  flash,  the  tears  are  gone,  and  baby  is 
all  smiles.  Watch  the  girl  skipping.  Over  and 
over  the  rope  she  goes,  and  close  beside  the  fluffy 


NOISY  NEW  YORK  27 

young  lady  is  a  whiskey  bottle  itself,  announcing 
some  famous  brand  of  the  fluid. 

Even  the  railways  are  not  immune.  They  ad- 
vertise their  tours  and  their  charm  with  unfailing 
punctuality;  indeed,  the  chief  thoroughfare  in 
Chicago  is  marred  by  the  hideous  advertisement 
at  a  railway  station,  which  can  be  seen  for  a  mile. 
By  the  bye,  the  railway  stations  of  America  are 
generally  splendid. 

America  is  a  vast  advertising  machine.  Hoard- 
ings are  a  great  feature  of  the  towns.  They  are 
everlastingly  pulling  down  places  and  rebuilding 
them.  All  this  rubble  and  rubbish  has  to  be  hid- 
den, and  the  hoarding,  or,  as  our  American  friends 
call  it,  a  "bill-board"  goes  up.  A  bill-board  is  no 
synonym  for  bills  or  posters,  it  is  just  huge  adver- 
tisements ;  not  posters  stuck  up  promiscuously 
as  ours  are,  but  large,  painted,  permanent  signs, 
even  framed  and  movable  from  one  hoarding  to 
another.  Expensive  but  lasting. 

American  advertisements  have  become  a  science. 
The  Americans  have  even  gone  so  far  as  to  raise 
the  advertisement  to  the  dignity  of  a  Congress. 
Advertising  is  no  longer  a  luxury,  but  a  necessity ; 
a  satisfied  customer,  however,  is  always  the  best 
advertising.  They  are  ceasing  to  exploit  their 
wares  in  the  old  form  of  notice ;  that  is  quite  out 
of  date  ;  everything  is  veiled  nowadays  except  the 
ladies  at  the  music-halls,  and  even  a  paragraph 


28  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

on  tomatoes  has  a  hidden  suggestion  about  some 
special  tinned  brand.  The  "Educational  Leader" 
casually  mentions  some  particular  system  of  teach- 
ing ;  the  gilded  pill  is  everywhere.  Really  one 
shivers  when  a  friend  recommends  a  particular 
motor  car,  or  shoe  last,  or  hay  fever  powder,  for  fear 
it  may  be  an  "  ad  "  naked  and  unashamed.  Men 
are  the  worst  sinners  with  wine,  horses,  and  cigars. 

Advertising  has  reached  such  a  pitch  that 
there  are  tens  of  thousands  of  men  and  women 
doing  nothing  else  but  write  and  place  attractive 
"ads"  in  suitable  positions  :  in  papers,  in  stations, 
in  country  meadows,  on  rocks,  on  walls,  on  floors, 
stairways,  or  ceilings.  It  is  a  huge  business. 
There  are  "Ads  Clubs",  the  first  and  largest  of 
which  is  in  Toronto,  where  advertising  by  this 
means  originally  started.  Canada  led  the  way  - 
the  States  quickly  followed  —  Great  Britain  is 
beginning  to  do  likewise.  Up  to  a  certain  point 
it  is  a  good  scheme,  because  it  means  that  the 
right  things  are  sometimes  placed  in  the  right  way  ; 
but  it  leads  to  corruption  in  the  press  with  its 
veiled  puffs,  and  also  to  disfigurement  of  the  land- 
scape. The  "Ads  Clubs"  hold  their  Congresses, 
and  the  "Ads  Clubs"  hold  the  public  in  their  grip. 

"Ads"  do  their  best  to  disfigure  the  wonderful 
entrance  to  New  York  by  the  Hudson ;  but  they 
cannot  succeed.  Anyone  who  has  entered  New 
York  in  the  dusk  of  the  evening,  or  the  dawn  of 


NOISY  NEW  YORK  29 

the  day,  will  never  forget  that  majestic,  yes, 
majestic  line  of  sky-scrapers  in  the  soft  light. 
New  York  is  not  a  lovely  harbour  like  Venice  or 
Stockholm,  not  amazing  for  its  protective  powers 
like  Vera  Cruz ;  not  wonderful  as  a  precious  gift 
from  Nature  like  Rio  de  Janeiro  or  Vigo  ;  but  New 
York  harbour  is  magnificent,  thanks  largely  to 
the  work  of  man. 

New  York  lacks  trees.  There  is  hardly  a  single 
square  ;  two  or  three  only  at  the  most.  There  are 
no  avenues  of  trees  ;  in  fact,  roughly,  there  are  no 
trees  at  all.  London  is  full  of  open  spaces ;  our 
squares  and  our  parks  are  right  in  the  middle  of 
the  thickest  of  the  population.  Paris,  though 
minus  squares,  is  interspersed  with  boulevards  — 
real  boulevards,  not  merely  asphalt  roads  called 
Avenues,  as  in  Chicago,  but  boulevards  with 
trees,  beneath  which  the  children  play  and  the 
wonderful  nourrices,  with  their  gorgeous  caps  and 
long  ribbons,  carry  the  babies. 

One  misses  all  this  greenery  in  New  York,  and 
the  roof  gardens  have  to  take  the  place  of 
Gardens  below. 

New  York  has  more  up-to-date  tricks  and  less 
up-to-date  ways  than  any  place  I  know. 

Those  express  elevators  are  marvels.  There  is 
one  house  fifty-five  stories  high,  among  many  that 
are  thirty  or  forty.  Up  one  whizzes  in  the  lift 
to  "Story  15"  or  "Story  16";  out  one  steps, 


30  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

starts  in  another  Express  Elevator  up  to  "25" 
or  "30";  and  changes  again  for  the  last  flight. 
It  is  a  marvellous  lift  system  without  constant 
stops. 

On  the  other  hand,  American  ways  are  most 
primitive. 

At  St.  Petersburg  in  the  hottest  weather - 
and  any  one,  who  knows  Russia,  knows  what  de- 
gree of  heat  that  means  —  a  man  goes  round  with 
a  ridiculous  pail  and  a  mop,  and  waters  the  streets. 
It  doesn't  seem  an  efficacious  way  of  watering 
streets,  but  somehow  these  gentlemen  in  white, 
wearing  Indian  sun-helmets  on  their  heads,  who 
run  about  the  streets  of  New  York,  with  large 
spoons  cleaning  the  road,  always  remind  me  of 
the  primitive  ways  of  St.  Petersburg. 

How  can  any  civilised  city  stand  dust-bins  full 
of  garbage  in  front  of  their  entrance  doors  in  the 
afternoon  ?  They  must  like  it,  or  the  munici- 
pality would  not  be  allowed  to  foster  disease  by 
such  hideous  means.  Dust-bins  can  be  seen  any 
day,  and  all  day,  anywhere,  and  everywhere,  in 
up-to-date  New  York.  London  has  the  best 
municipal  government  in  the  world ;  New  York, 
probably  the  worst. 

Hygienics,  Eugenics,  and  Economics  are  the 
three  most  important  subjects  in  the  life  of  a 
nation  to-day.  New  York  might  begin  with  dust- 
bins and  end  with  police  morality. 


NOISY  NEW  YORK  31 

They  have  many  queer  ways  in  Norway  of  noti- 
fying a  death  by  putting  branches  of  fir  trees  upon 
the  ground  and  around  the  door.  Perhaps  that 
idea  came  to  America  with  the  Scandinavian 
immigrant.  Anyway,  it  is  the  fashion  in  New 
York  to  put  extraordinary  bows  of  black  crepe 
ornamented  with  flowers  upon  door-knockers, 
door-handles,  on  window-sills,  and  other  such 
queer  places  where  there  has  been  a  death.  If 
it  is  a  child,  white  flowers,  or  white  crepe  is  used ; 
but  if  the  lost  one  is  grown  up,  or  a  middle- 
aged  person,  black  crepe  relieved  with  purple  is 
universal.  One  can  see  these  offerings  of  respect 
in  any  back  street  in  New  York.  There  always 
seems  to  be  someone  dead  somewhere,  and  these 
little  tokens  denote  the  place  of  his  passing. 

We  put  up  black  boards  in  our  shop  windows  in 
London,  but  in  New  York  they  close  the  entire 
store,  and  put  a  card  on  the  door  to  notify  the 
customers  that  the  proprietor,  or  a  member  of  his 
family,  is  dead,  and  is  being  buried  on  some  par- 
ticular day.  We  occasionally  wear  short  veils  with 
our  black  dresses  for  mourning  —  the  American, 
like  the  Frenchwoman,  smothers  herself  in  crepe, 
and  dons  a  veil  which  is  almost  as  large  and  as 
long  as  a  window  curtain,  and  reaches  down  to 
her  heels. 

These  are  all  little  things ;  but  little  things 
make  up  life. 


32  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

New  York  is  full  of  interest.  It  is  not  American. 
It  is  a  railway  terminus  or  a  dockyard  of  people 
from  other  lands,  and  it  is  interesting  and  instruc- 
tive beyond  expression.  But  you  must  wake  up 
your  Civil  Council,  dear  old  Uncle  Sam ;  you  are 
napping  badly. 

Dear,  boisterous,  noisy  New  York  has  reached  the 
age  of  discretion ;  an  age,  alas  !  so  often  followed 
by  the  more  dangerous  age  of  indiscretion. 


CHAPTER   II 

WHERE  ARE  THE  MEN  ? 
(CULTURED  CHICAGO.) 

"  WHERE  are  the  men  ?"  one  continually  asks. 
Echo  answers,  "Where  ? " 

In  New  York  there  are  plenty  of  men  to  be  seen. 
There  is  a  large  percentage  of  idle  men  there,  just 
as  there  is  in  every  other  capital ;  a  particular 
type  of  charming,  well-dressed,  smiling  man 
is  to  be  found  in  London,  Paris,  Berlin,  St. 
Petersburg,  or  New  York.  But  once  outside 
Manhattan,  one  asks  continually,  "Where  are 
the  men  ?" 

Is  this  striving  for  dollars  worth  the  total  ob- 
literation of  personal  comfort  ?  Do  these  men 
believe  that  the  cheque-book  is  the  only  powerful 
book  in  the  world  ?  Is  the  neglect  of  home  ties 
for  the  slavedom  of  business  worth  the  struggle  ? 
Do  Americans  drudge  for  the  sheer  love  of  attain- 
ment or  to  satisfy  their  wives'  love  of  luxury  ? 

Would  a  little  more  business  method  not  ac- 
complish quite  as  much  in  less  time  ? 

Better    civic     administration    would    organise 

D  33 


34  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

easier  means  for  getting  about  and  save  many  hours' 
weekly  worry  to  the  breadwinner. 

Yes,  half  New  York  is  one  continual  round 
of  society  obsession.  People  are  lunching,  tea- 
ing,  dining,  calling,  all  the  time.  Even  the  men 
do  it ;  but  New  York  is  not  in  the  least  repre- 
sentative of  America.  Just  as  the  Society  stam- 
pede is  overdone  in  that  city,  the  social  side  is 
equally  neglected  by  the  men  folk  in  every  other 
town  of  the  land,  and  one  asks  again  and  again, 
"Where  are  the  men  ?" 

This  does  not  mean  that  the  men  don't  slip 
away  from  their  office  for  a  couple  of  hours' 
bridge,  or  billiards,  at  the  Club  before  dinner, 
because  they  often  do ;  it  means  that  custom  and 
habit  have  absolutely  divided  the  sexes,  and  each 
leads  its  own  particular  life.  Men  and  women 
meet  seldom.  Husbands  and  wives  are  not  much 
together,  but  they  are  generally  most  excellent 
friends,  and  while  the  woman  appears  mistress, 
the  man  is  most  decidedly  master.  It  is  the  other 
way  in  Britain. 

The  majority  of  Americans  resent  a  man  put- 
ting on  dress  clothes,  or  even  a  dinner  jacket  — 
which  he  pleases  to  call  a  Tuxedo,  after  a  fashion- 
able country  place  where  it  was  first  used.  Some 
think  that  a  little  self-respecting  neatness,  and 
dressing  in  the  evening,  make  the  owner  "look 
down  on  common  people,"  as  a  man  once  ex- 


WHERE  ARE  THE  MEN? 


35 


Drawn  by  W.  K.  Haselden.    Reproduced  by  permission  of  the  London  Daily  Mirror, 

AMERICAN  VISITORS'  GUIDE  TO  SOCIETY 


36  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

pressed  it.  He  did  not  explain  what  the  creature 
comforts  of  the  individual  had  to  do  with  looking 
down  on  other  people. 

There  is  no  respect  for  man  or  beast,  no  respect 
even  for  clothes.  There  are  many  individuals  and 
little  individuality.  One  ordinary  American  must 
and  shall  do  exactly  the  same  as  another  ordinary 
American  or  he  is  called  "crazy,"  and  that  settles 
him. 

Talking  of  being  conventional,  one  has  only  to 
look  at  the  hands  of  the  women  to  see  that  every 
single  person  in  every  single  circumstance  wears 
white  gloves.  There  are  short  gloves,  and  long 
gloves,  and  medium  gloves,  but  they  are  invari- 
ably white ;  no  cream  colour,  nor  grey,  nor  fawn, 
nor  black,  but  white,  white,  white.  Englishmen 
have,  alas,  also  taken  unto  themselves  a  conven- 
tional form  of  bondage  in  that  gold  signet  ring  on 
every  man's  little  finger,  and  that  charming  but 
monotonous  blue  serge  suit. 

A  woman  wears  these  white  gloves  with  the  same 
unchanging  regularity  that  a  soldier  dons  his  white 
doeskin.  She  wears  them  because  she  has  not 
the  pluck  to  be  unconventional ;  he  wears  them 
because  they  are  part  of  his  uniform,  and  are  made 
by  tens  of  thousands. 

America  is  not  only  a  country  of  conventionality, 
but  it  is  a  country  of  fads.  Something  is  taken  up 
most  warmly ;  lectured  upon ;  discussed ;  read 


From  The  New  New  York. 


THE  PLAZA  BY  MOONLIGHT 
Drawn  by  Joseph  Pennell. 


WHERE  ARE  THE  MEN?  37 

about ;  organised  into  a  Society,  which  holds  its 
meetings  and  works  the  subject  to  death ;  and 
then  a  few  months  later  a  new  idea  comes  along 
and  out  goes  Fad  Number  One  to  make  room  for 
Fad  Number  Two. 

At  the  moment,  the  latest  fad  in  America  is 
Eugenics.  They  are  just  founding  the  Eugenics 
Education  Society  of  New  York  along  the  same 
lines  as  ours  in  England,  which  has  been  going 
strong  for  three  or  four  years. 

Everyone  is  talking  Eugenics  or  trying  to  talk 
Eugenics,  but,  no  doubt,  that  too  may  be  a  fad  and 
may  pass  away  like  many  others  before  it. 

It  is  a  good  thing  to  have  fads.  They  shew 
interest  and  an  active  mind,  and  even  if  they  fail, 
"it  is  better  to  have  loved  and  lost"  —no,  had 
a  fad  and  lost  it  —  than  never  to  have  loved  — 
no,  "f added"  —  at  all. 

Among  the  lower  classes  one  is  continually 
noting  the  good  clothes  and  the  bad  manners. 

Lack  of  manners  —  the  manners  of  ordinary 
civility --is  unpardonable.  One  is  often  struck 
in  these  days  by  the  fact  that  poverty  and  refine- 
ment are  twin  sisters,  while  money  and  vulgarity 
run  in  double  harness. 

American  voices  are  improving.  There  is  a 
marked  difference  in  the  last  few  years.  The  peo- 
ple travel  more,  and  listen  to  the  lower  tones 
and  softer  enunciation  of  other  countries.  They 


38  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

quickly  assimilate.  In  another  generation  that 
old  twang  will  have  entirely  disappeared.  Many 
of  the  modern  American  voices  are  charming. 
The  country  has  wakened  up  to  the  joys  of 
pleasantly  modulated  speech,  and  the  shrill  stri- 
dent tones  of  yore  are  becoming  obsolete.  In 
fact,  the  highly  cultured  American  has  already 
lost  the  nasal  peculiarity  and  acquired  a  good 
intonation.  Children,  when  they  shout  or  shriek, 
are  corrected  nowadays,  by  their  elders. 

Unfortunately  the  lower  classes  of  Great  Britain 
have  most  hideous  voices.  Formerly  it  was  the 
rough  accents  of  the  uneducated,  combined  with  a 
certain  amount  of  local  dialect.  To-day  the  raucous 
tones  of  the  lower  classes  are  even  more  pro- 
nounced —  the  outcome  of  Board  School  educa- 
tion —  and  are  particularly  afflicting  to  a  sensitive 
ear.  The  Board  School  voice  is  rasping. 

It  is  an  awful  thing  for  an  Englishwoman  to 
visit  America  without  being  primed  as  to  what 
she  is  to  wear. 

The  first  time  I  went  across  the  Atlantic  I  took 
eight  or  nine  evening  dresses  with  me.  We 
always  wear  low  gowns  in  the  evening  in  London, 
and  neither  men  nor  women  ever  think  of  sitting 
down  to  dinner  in  morning  dress. 

Those  evening  gowns  were  perfect  white  ele- 
phants. In  1900  nobody  thought  of  putting  on 


WHERE  ARE  THE  MEN?  39 

such  a  thing  except  at  the  opera  in  New  York,  or 
a  very,  very  big  dinner-party  or  a  ball ;  so  my 
pretty,  low,  evening  dresses  were  almost  useless. 

Mistake  No.  L  --No  one  had  told  me  that  the 
houses  were  so  overheated.  I  had  no  idea  that 
I  should  live  in  a  hot-house  ranging  from  seventy 
to  eighty  degrees,  in  the  depths  of  the  winter. 
Imagining  that  Uncle  Sam's  land  was  a  cold  place 
in  the  short  days,  I  had  brought  thick  clothes. 

Mistake  No.  II.  —  I  nearly  expired.  As  it  was 
the  winter  I  had  not  dreamed  of  bringing  light, 
thin,  diaphanous,  summery  garments  for  home 
wear. 

Mistake  No.  III.  —  The  only  things  I  really 
wanted  were  entirely  missing  from  my  wardrobe, 
and  I  was  badly  dressed  from  breakfast-time  to 
bedtime  —  far,  far  too  smart  in  the  evenings,  not 
nearly  smart  enough  in  the  afternoons,  and  as- 
phyxiated in  thick  cloth  garments  in  the  morn- 
ings. Such  was  my  life.  I  was  never,  never 
properly  gowned. 

To  be  well  dressed  is  to  be  suitably  dressed. 
My  toilet  was  hopeless,  even  my  smart  London 
opera-cloaks  were  impossible  in  tram-cars  or  over- 
head railways. 

I  managed  to  improve  things  on  my  second  visit 
four  years  later;  and  on  my  return  eight  years 
later  still,  made  up  my  mind  to  be  "just  right" 
at  last. 


40  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

By  Marconigram  to  the  Baltic,  a  kind  friend 
in  New  York  had  arranged  a  dinner  and  theatre- 
party  for  the  night  of  my  arrival.  I  had  gladly 
accepted,  and  looked  out  one  of  the  low  evening 
dresses  I  had  had  so  carefully  filled  in  with  chiffon, 
so  as  to  give  the  appearance  of  the  necessary  high 
neck  and  long  sleeves.  I  took  myself  off  to  the 
St.  Regis  Hotel,  feeling  mighty  pleased  that  I  had 
at  last  mastered  the  situation  and  possessed  a 
smart  half-and-half  sort  of  afternoon-evening  gown 
to  suit  American  taste.  And  I  had  also  donned  a 
big  picture  hat,  especially  bought  to  wear  on  such 
occasions.  This  hotel,  which  is  one  of  the  many 
beautiful  hotels  that  had  sprung  up  since  my  last 
visit,  was  a  revelation. 

Could  this  be  America  ? 

Every  one  in  the  dinning-room  was  in  full 
evening  dress  !  More  than  that,  the  women  were 
really  decollete ;  and  they  wore  no  hats. 
Feathers,  flowers,  jewels,  and  ribbons  decorated 
their  heads,  and  there  was  I,  the  only  English- 
woman present,  in  a  light  high  dress  and  large 
hat  in  my  wild  endeavour  to  be  suitably  gowned  at 
last,  and  yet  I  was  as  hopelessly  wrong  as  before 
and  apparently  ever  shall  be,  since  customs  change 
so  quickly. 

Mistake  No.  IV.  --It  was  a  surprise.  In 
eight  years  the  New  Yorker  had  given  up  dining 
in  high  garments  and  hats,  had  taken  to  decorating 


WHERE  ARE  THE  MEN?  41 

her  head  in  the  latest  Parisian  style,  and  cutting 
her  dresses  lower,  before  and  behind,  than  is  done 
in  London. 

Look  at  the  theatres.  Instead  of  anybody 
being  considered  a  demi-mondaine  for  being  un- 
covered, most  of  the  occupants  of  the  boxes  and 
many  of  the  stalls  are  now  in  full  evening  dresses. 
The  lady  in  the  next  seat  may  wear  a  coat  and 
skirt,  and  the  man  beyond  her  may  wear  the  same 
suit  he  has  worn  at  his  office  all  day. 

How  the  times  have  changed.  The  audiences  in 
the  opera-houses  in  America  to-day,  with  the 
exception  of  the  lack  of  diamond  tiaras,  are 
equally  smart  as  in  London,  Buenos  Ayres, 
or  Paris,  and  very  fine  opera-houses  they  are,  too. 

Yes,  they  all  wear  low  dresses  in  the  evening 
in  New  York,  and  high  dresses  in  the  day.  But 
as  one  goes  West  in  America,  this  form  of  pro- 
cedure is  somewhat  reversed,  and  the  ladies  often 
wear  low  dresses  in  the  afternoon,  full  ball  toilets 
in  fact  for  debutantes'  tea-parties,  and  return  to 
cloth  coats  and  skirts  (suits,  they  call  them)  with 
high  blouses  (shirt-waists,  they  call  them)  in  the 
evening. 

Costumes  are  a  matter  of  conventionality. 
People  are  unmoral  because  they  know  no  better ; 
they  are  immoral  because  they  know  better  and 
do  worse. 

Overdressing  is  hideous.     Simplicity  is  far  more 


42  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

beautiful  than  complexity.  And  really,  costumes 
change  so  quickly  in  the  States  and  fashions  vary 
so  much  with  the  different  towns,  that  men  and 
women  from  Europe  should  be  furnished  with  a 

Plan  of  Procedure  for  Good  Society 

This  should  be  handed  to  them  when  buying 
their  passage,  on  which  should  be  distinctly  printed 
quarterly  alterations  such  as  :  - 

New  York.  — Best  restaurants  and  theatres:  Women,  low 
dresses,  smart  opera-cloaks,  no  hats.  Men  full  dress. 

Washington,  Boston,  Philadelphia,  Chicago.  —  All  this  is 
optional.  Better  style  to  wear  high  dresses  and  dinner 
jackets. 

Other  smaller  cities. — No  evening  dress  required  ;  anything 
will  do,  because  whatever  it  is,  it  will  be  wrong.  Ladies  don 
dark  cloaks  to  go  in  cars  and  hats  they  can  put  under  the 
theatre  seats,  or  pin  on  the  seats  in  front.  Men  wear  morn- 
ing dress. 

Boots.  —  Please  take  your  own  cleaning  apparatus  and 
learn  to  clean  your  own  boots  before  you  start ;  or  you  will 
have  to  chance  to  luck,  which  means  smudgy  boots  and  mud. 

Underwear.  —  In  midwinter  you  must  don  the  thinnest 
possible  garments,  for  the  houses  are  as  hot  as  the  tropics. 

In  midsummer  you  may  wear  ordinary  underclothes,  as 
Nature's  temperature  is  not  tampered  with. 

Outer  wear.  —  Sun-hats  and  green-lined  unbrellas  and 
alpaca  coats  for  summer;  and  all  the  furs  you  can  com- 
mand for  winter  use. 

N.B.  And  with  all,  you  will  never  be  properly  clothed, 
as  every  American  town  has  its  own  ethics  of  dress,  and  it 
would  take  Englishmen  six  months  to  learn  to  wear  a  high 
waistcoat  with  a  swallow-tail  coat.  So  give  it  up. 


WHERE  ARE  THE  MEN?  43 

Whenever  you  are  invited  "  informally "  to 
anything,  beware.  That  word  spells  disaster. 

"Will  you  dine  with  us  on  Tuesday  ?  quite 
informally,  you  know."  (With  great  emphasis  on 
"informally.") 

It  being  then  Saturday,  a  verbal  invitation  for 
three  days  ahead  leads  you  to  suppose  it  is  a  kind 
of  family  party ;  so  in  a  dinner  jacket  (smoker) 
or  a  semi-high  dress  you  sally  forth.  You  are 
sure  to  be  wrong  ;  there  will  be  eighteen  or  twenty- 
eight  people  all  in  full  rig ;  you  have  plenty  of 
suitable  clothes  at  the  hotel,  but  being  told  "in- 
formally, "  you  went  informally.  Another  mistake. 
Or  again  :  — 

"Choose  your  own  night  when  you  come  back 
to  New  York  and  we  will  get  up  a  little  dinner. 
You  decide  you  will  be  back  in  six  weeks,  fix  the 
night,  the  hostess  writes  the  date  in  your  diary, 
and  her  diary,  and  affixes  eight  o'clock  as  the  hour. 
A  week  before  returning  to  New  York  you  write 
to  ask  if  the  date  still  holds  good  ;  not  saying, 
"because  if  it  does  not,  I  am  going  to  stay  where 
I  am  two  days  longer."  She  replies  she  expects 
you,  so  you  return  for  the  dinner ;  you  hang  out 
your  very  best  clothes  to  get  rid  of  any  creases 
and  off  you  go.  The  party  is  composed  of  the 
family  and  one  couple.  You  sit  down  eight 
instead  of  eighteen  or  twenty-eight  which  might 
have  been  the  case  "informally,"  and  you  feel  a 
dressed-up  Judy.  Wrong  again ;  give  it  up. 


44  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

Several  times  women  asked  :  — 

"What  is  a  gown  ?"     They  seemed  as  foggy 
about  that  as  about  "lunches"  at  any  hour. 

I  may  be  wrong,  but  I  should  define  things 
thus :— 

An  evening  gown,  a  tea  gown:  something  long 
and  sweeping  and  artistic. 

An  afternoon  dress:  something  dressy  and 
smart. 

A  morning  frock:  something  sensible,  such  as 
a  "tub  "frock. 

A  coat  and  skirt :    an  American  tailor-made  suit. 

Or  again :  An  English  PIE  is  meat  or  fruit 
covered  by  pastry. 

A  TART  is  fruit  with  the  pastry  underneath. 
Nowadays,  fruit  cooked  in  a  pie  dish  and  covered 
with  pastry  is  also  called  a  tart. 

It  is  somewhat  surprising  to  go  into  an  office 
and  find  men,  even  the  "bosses"  themselves, 
sitting  in  their  shirt-sleeves.  In  great  heat  this 
is  sensible,  but  it  seems  to  have  become  a  sort  of 
habit  in  America,  and  shirt-sleeved  gentlemen 
are  by  no  means  uncommon  even  in  the  Law 
Courts,  where  the  Judges  give  men  permission  to 
remove  their  coats,  and  set  the  example  by  doing 
so  themselves ;  American  Judges  do  not  wear 
wigs  and  seldom  even  gowns  ;  so  that  much  of  the 
outward  dignity  of  the  law  is  lost. 


WHERE  ARE  THE  MEN  ? 


45 


TO  ENGLAND 


BACK   TO  THE    STATES  (Si*  MONTHS  LATER) 


Drawn  by  W.  K.  Haselden.    Reproduced  by  permission  of  the  London  Daily  Mirror. 

BRITISHERS  ARE  NOT  so  SLOW  AS  THEIR  AMERICAN  COUSINS  IMAGINE 


46  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

Americans  prefer  fashion  to  individuality.  Eng- 
lishwomen prefer  individuality  to  fashion. 

Let  me  explain  myself.  Whenever  one  enters 
an  American  shop  one  is  immediately  told  that 
"this  is  the  very  latest."  If  it  is  the  latest,  it  is 
sure  to  sell,  no  matter  if  the  purchaser  is  short  and 
stout  and  the  dress  is  made  for  someone  long  and 
thin.  It  is  the  latest.  That  is  sufficient  for  the 
customer,  and  she  accordingly  orders  it  to  be 
copied.  The  result  is  that  American  society 
women  are  like  a  fashion-plate.  They  wear  the 
most  costly  material,  fitted  to  perfection  on  good 
figures  ;  hundreds  of  dollars'  worth  of  plumes  of 
every  hue  cover  their  heads,  white  apparently 
for  choice ;  but  if  it  is  the  fashion  to  wear  tight 
skirts,  each  vies  with  the  other  to  see  how  tight 
her  skirts  can  possibly  be,  and  if  Dame  Mode 
decrees  that  hats  should  be  worn  over  the  face, 
every  woman  pulls  her  hat  a  little  further  over 
her  nose  than  the  other,  and  so  on,  right  down 
the  line. 

To  be  well  dressed  in  America  is  to  be  ultra- 
fashionably  garbed.  If  the  latest  veil  is  a  spider's 
web,  or  one  huge  chrysanthemum,  no  other  veil 
is  permissible ;  if  fringe  is  the  mode,  fringe  must 
be  worn  on  everything.  If  you  are  not  "in  the 
latest,"  you  count  for  naught.  America,  there- 
fore, is  a  gold  mine  for  the  costumiers  and  mo- 
distes. 


WHERE  ARE  THE  MEN  ?  47 

On  our  side  of  the  Atlantic  it  is  different.  The 
great  houses  of  London  and  Paris  and  Vienna 
have  artists  who  design  special  clothes  for  special 
women.  The  desire  is  for  artistic  raiment  and, 
above  all,  for  individual  garb.  These  large  costu- 
miers naturally  charge  enormous  prices  ;  because, 
instead  of  copying  a  dress,  line  by  line,  they 
give  an  individual  touch  to  each  individual 
woman. 

There  certainly  is  an  extraordinary  lack  of  orig- 
inality in  the  States.  The  gowns  are  as  similar 
as  ninepins.  One  frock  comes  from  Paris,  and 
that  one  frock  seems  to  be  reproduced  ten  thou- 
sand times,  in  every  possible  stuff,  in  every  shade 
of  colour,  in  every  combination  of  material.  The 
same  with  the  hats.  They  are  charming  ;  they  are 
smart,  —  mighty  smart ;  they  are  put  on  at  the  right 
angle,  but  somehow  they  lack  originality,  and 
one  rather  longs  for  the  expression  of  the  woman 
herself  in  her  gown,  or  her  headgear,  instead  of  this 
constant  submission  to  Dame  Fashion. 

Ready-made  tailor  suits  (turned  out  all  alike 
by  the  tens  of  thousand)  are  cheaper  than  in 
Europe,  and  the  ready-mades  are  in  good  style  and 
neat.  That  probably  accounts  for  the  fact  that 
one  so  seldom  sees  sloppy  people.  The  stenog- 
rapher, or  the  clerk,  are  both  neater  about  the 
neck,  waist,  and  feet,  and  more  self-respecting  than 
the  same  class  of  people  of  other  lands.  The 


48  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

lower  middle-class  woman  is  a  great  asset  in  the 
country  ;  she  generally  looks  charming. 

Speaking  of  debutantes.  How  different  things 
are  in  America  from  Great  Britain.  When  a  girl 
comes  out  with  us,  if  her  people  can  afford  it,  she 
is  given  a  ball  —  coming-out  dances  are  constant. 
If  that  girl's  family  is  in  a  position  to  go  to  Court, 
the  girl  makes  her  debut  at  one  of  the  four  or  five 
Courts  given  each  spring  at  Buckingham  Palace. 
She  must  wear  white  for  her  presentation,  and  her 
four-yard  train,  having  once  been  worn  to  make 
her  curtsey  to  her  Sovereign,  is  quickly  returned 
to  the  dressmaker  to  be  fashioned  into  a  second 
white  evening  gown,  unless  her  own  clever  fingers 
can  do  the  deed,  as  they  often  can,  and  do.  How 
proud  every  English  girl  is  of  her  presentation 
dress.  It  is  almost  as  important  to  her  as  her 
marriage  gown. 

When  the  cards  are  sent  out  by  the  mother  for 
a  ball,  the  daughter's  name  is  not  mentioned 
thereon,  nor  is  any  notification  given  on  the  in- 
vitation that  it  is  a  coming-out  party. 

In  the  States  it  is  otherwise.  The  debutante 
is  made  all-important ;  the  fact  of  her  advent  in 
society  is  announced  on  the  invitation  card  ;  she 
is  made  the  heroine  of  the  hour ;  bouquets  are 
sent  for  her  to  carry ;  flowers  are  showered  at 
her  feet ;  everyone  dons  her  best  gown,  many 
dress  up  for  the  tea-party  as  if  it  were  a  great 


WHERE  ARE  THE  MEN?  49 

evening  function,  and  the  facts  are  announced  in 
the  newspapers.  One  might  think  the  whole 
internal  machinery  of  the  United  States  was  at  a 
standstill,  so  important  a  function  is  a  debutante's 
tea.  That  girl's  advent  into  society  is  of  pro- 
digious moment  according  to  her  friends  and  the 
press. 

Really  one  might  imagine  that  an  American 
girl's  entrance  into  society  was  going  to  change  the 
whole  course  of  the  world's  history,  it  is  announced 
with  such  tom-toms. 

The  girls  of  America  have  far  too  good  a  time ; 
the  married  women  too  bad  a  one.  Everything 
is  done  to  amuse  girls.  If  they  go  to  college,  they 
don't  come  out  till  they  are  twenty-one  or  twenty- 
two  ;  but  if  they  don't  take  up  higher  work,  they 
leave  at  eighteen  or  nineteen  years  of  age,  and 
receive  their  own  gentlemen  visitors,  and  live 
their  own  lives. 

Old  age  is  sacrificed  to  youth.  Youth  is  too 
often  sacrificed  to  old  age  in  Europe. 

Anyway  the  American  girl  has  "a  perfectly 
lovely  time."  In  good  society  she  does  not  go 
about  alone,  as  is  commonly  supposed.  She  is 
strictly  chaperoned  ;  but  the  chaperon's  fatigue 
counts  for  naught,  so  long  as  Miss  wants  to  go 
somewhere  or  do  something.  She  has  her  debu- 
tante tea,  her  parties,  her  theatres,  her  dances  ; 
she  is  sent  flowers  and  sweets,  is  feted  and  feasted, 


50  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

and  made  a  veritable  princess.  Everything  ap- 
pears to  give  way  to  the  American  girl. 

Let  her  enjoy  life  all  she  can,  for  it  will  be  very 
different  when  she  marries. 

The  French  or  English  woman  gets  her  freedom 
with  matrimony,  the  Yankee  maid  loses  it. 

The  man  who  found  time  for  courtship  cannot 
find  much  time  for  his  wife.  He  leaves  home  early 
and  returns  late.  The  servants  are  so  expensive  and 
so  inefficient  that  they  drive  her  distracted,  and  her 
life  becomes  a  round  of  hard-worked  domesticity 
and  babies,  coupled  with  much  loneliness.  Mat- 
ters do  not  improve  with  years.  She  never  sees 
much  of  her  husband,  so  as  the  children  grow  up, 
and  the  house  settles  itself  down  more  or  less,  she 
finds  relaxation  in  her  club,  and  turns  to  public 
work  and  philanthropic  ideas,  or  seriously  takes 
up  her  own  self-culture. 

English  women  may  expect  too  much  society 
from  their  men.  American  women  certainly  get 
too  little. 

A  double  column  announces  these  all-important 
functions  daily  in  the  papers.  Such  a  thing  is  un- 
known in  Europe,  where  girls  come  out  or  go  in 
and  only  personal  friends  ever  hear  about  them. 
The  day  after  the  tea  the  press  is  informed  of  the 
list  of  "  young  ladies  who  poured  "  — not  rain  but 
tea  ! 


WHERE  ARE  THE  MEN  ? 


Society   World 


The  Debutantes'  Calendar 


THURSDAY,  Nov.  28.— Miss  F— 
M— ,  daughter  of  Mrs.  F—  L—  M— 
of  B —  P — ,  at  a  tea  to  be  given  by 
her  aunt,  Mrs.  J —  W — ,  140  E — 
S —  street. 

FRIDAY,  Nov.  29. — Mr.  and  Mrs. 
K —  M — ,  a  dance  for  Miss  M —  A — 
M— ,  at  the  B—  hotel. 

SATURDAY,  Nov.  30. — Miss  M — 
B — ,  daughter  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  C — 
B — ,  at  a  tea. 

Miss  G—  and  Miss  J— W— ,  5114 
M —  avenue,  at  a  tea  to  be  given  by 
their  mother,  Mrs.  W —  F — . 

Mrs.  J —  J.  C — ,  1310  H —  avenue, 
E — ,  tea  to  introduce  the  Misses  M — 
and  F —  C — ,  followed  by  a  dinner- 
dance. 

Miss  E —  R — ,  at  a  tea  at  the  resi- 
dence of  her  aunt,  Mrs.  T —  P —  G — , 
1540  D —  parkway. 

THURSDAY,  Dec.  5. — Miss  K —  S — , 
daughter  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  S — ,  21 
E —  G —  street,  at  a  tea  to  be  given 
by  her  mother. 

FRIDAY,   Dec.   6. — Mr.   and   Mrs. 


G—  H—  H— ,  1242  L—  S—  drive,  a 
debutante's  dinner-dance. 

SATURDAY,  Dec.  7.— Miss  K— K— , 
daughter  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  E —  K — , 
at  a  tea  to  be  given  at  the  residence 
of  her  grandmother,  Mrs.  E —  K — , 
1906  P —  avenue. 

Miss  H—  H— ,  daughter  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  19  E —  G —  street,  at  a  tea. 

SATURDAY,  Dec.  14. — Miss  M — 
L —  R — ,  daughter  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
E —  R — ,  19  E —  G —  street,  at  a  tea. 

FRIDAY,  Dec.  20. — Mr.  and  Mrs. 
C —  B — ,  a  dance  at  the  Blackstone 
in  honor  of  their  daughter,  Miss  M — 
B— . 

SATURDAY,  Dec.  21  .—Miss  E—  J— , 
at  a  tea  to  be  given  by  her  mother, 
Mrs.  S—  R.  J— ,  1317  N—  S—  street. 

WEDNESDAY,  Jan.  1. — Miss  E — 
P — ,  daughter  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  A. 
D.  P— ,  2112  L—  P—  W— ,  at  a  tea. 

FRIDAY,  Jan.  3. — Mr.  and  Mrs.  A — 
M — ,  a  dinner-dance  at  the  Saddle 
and  Cycle  club  for  their  niece,  Miss 
M—  M— . 


52  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

I  often  felt  ashamed,  when  I  first  visited 
America  in  the  early  days  of  this  century,  of  want- 
ing a  cup  of  tea  in  the  afternoon.  Sometimes  I 
dared  venture  to  ask  my  hostess  if  I  might  be  al- 
lowed such  a  luxury.  If  I  ordered  it  at  an  hotel, 
they  made  as  much  fuss,  and  charged  as  highly,  as  if 
it  had  been  a  dinner.  Times  have  changed.  Tea  is 
the  fashion ;  afternoon  tea  is  becoming  almost  as 
universal  as  "Le  Feeve  o'clock"  is  in  Paris,  where 
it  is  generally  served  at  four  o'clock,  paradoxical 
as  that  may  sound. 

Nothing  could  be  more  fashionable  than  the 
Plaza  Hotel  in  New  York  between  four  and  six. 
It  is  almost  impossible  to  get  a  seat,  and  the  tables 
are  so  close  together  that  there  is  barely  room  to 
move  between  them. 

There  are  men,  too ;  think  of  it  !  Another  ref- 
ormation in  America.  Not  only  have  all  society 
women  taken  to  tea,  but  the  god,  Man,  sometimes 
appears  at  tea-parties  and  becomes  the  Squire  of 
Dames  at  this  great  Civic  Railway  Emporium, 
called  New  York.  He  has  learnt  that  it  is  neither 
idle  nor  undignified  to  drink  tea  occasionally  with 
his  lady  friends. 

Some  of  the  most  wonderful  tea-parties  in  the 
world  are  given  in  America  ;  for  when  they  do  give 
one,  it  is  a  prodigious  affair. 

Cards  are  sent  out,  flowers  and  plants  ordered, 
wondrous  cakes  and  ice-creams  come  in,  the  table 


WHERE  ARE  THE  MEN?  53 

is  prettily  set  out  with  lovely  drawn-thread  table- 
cloths, and  handsome  satin  bows  to  match  the 
particular  flowers  used  for  decorations.  In  fact, 
there  are  "pink  teas,"  or  "red  teas,"  and  endless 
pretty  ideas  on  such  lines.  The  hostess  then  asks 
certain  young  ladies  to  "pour."  This  custom, 
unknown  in  England,  probably  originated  in  the 
lack  of  servants,  and  the  art  of  "pouring"  has 
become  an  important  feature  in  American  life, 
and  is  chronicled  with  unfailing  regularity  in  the 
newspapers.  For  instance,  "Mrs.  Fitzwilliam 
Smith  had  a  tea-party  on  the  iQth,  and  the  fol- 
lowing young  ladies  poured." 

What  delicious  things  they  have  at  these  tea- 
parties,  too.  It  seems  strange  to  an  English- 
woman to  see  a  cocktail  served  at  afternoon  tea. 
Every  conceivable  kind  of  punch  appears,  and 
other  marvellous  drinks,  and  fruit  salads  are 
fashionable  in  the  States,  where  the  tea  it- 
self is  of  really  little  importance  and  not  often 
asked  for.  But  the  cakes  and  sandwiches,  more 
particularly  the  latter,  are  prefectly  delicious. 
The  American  mind  is  certainly  inventive  in  this 
direction.  What  could  be  more  appetising  than 
a  sandwich  filled  with  pounded  nuts  soaked  in 
cream,  or  another  one  composed  of  chopped  or 
preserved  ginger,  or  a  third  filled  with  some  de- 
licious arrangement  of  cream  cheese  and  choco- 
late powder ;  egg  flavoured  with  anchovy ;  kip- 


54 


AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 


pered  herring  minced,  with  butter  and  green 
peppers ;  dark  brown  German  honey-cake,  known 
as  "  Boston  Brown  Bread,"  sliced  alternately  with 
white  bread,  and  filled  between  the  layers  with  all 
sorts  of  delicious  things  ?  Never  in  all  my  life 
have  I  eaten  anything  so  fascinating  as  those 
American  sandwiches. 

Come,  come  !  There  are  two  things  we  have 
that  you  don't  know ;  one  is  an  English  fried  sole, 
and  the  other  is  jam.  You  grow  thousands  of 
tons  of  oranges  and  you  are  only  just  learning  to 
make  marmalade ;  you  pickle  your  fruit  in  a 
most  delicious  way,  but  you  don't  know  how  to 
make  English  jam,  any  more  than  we  know  how 
to  make  waffles  or  salads. 

I  have  bought  a  Boston  cookery  book,  and 
though  my  hair  may  turn  grey  in  the  process,  I 
must  learn  how  to  make  some  of  your  own  deli- 
cious American  dishes. 

If  one  looks  at  a  list  of  functions,  one  sees  "Eng- 
lish breakfast  tea"  ;  'tis  a  queer  notion,  but  such 
is  the  name  of  a  blend  in  favour  for  afternoon 
drinking.  There  is  a  strange  new  coffee  in  use. 
It  is  supposed  to  be  all  sorts  of  wonderful  things, 
and  so  it  may  be ;  but  the  coffee  bean,  that  im- 
portant adjunct,  appears  to  have  been  forgotten. 
Chicory  is  often  bought  in  Finland  under  the 
name  of  coffee  ;  likewise  husks,  perchance  because 
they  are  cheaper.  The  United  States  have  Mexico 


WHERE  ARE  THE  MEN  ?  55 

for  their  neighbour,  where  some  of  the  best  coffee 
in  the  world  is  grown ;  so  there  is  no  excuse  for 
this  expensive  medicinal  concoction  unless  to  give 
a  new  bearing  to  the  old  adage,  "The  nearer  the 
church  the  farther  from  God." 

San  Paolo  in  Brazil  is  the  greatest  coffee  town 
in  the  world,  and  Santos  is  its  port.  Having  trav- 
elled up  that  marvellous  English  railway,  ascend- 
ing nearly  three  thousand  feet  partly  on  cogwheels 
to  San  Paolo,  we  revelled  in  the  fresh,  delicious 
coffee  at  the  hotel.  When  leaving  the  place, 
there  was  half  an  hour  to  spare  at  that  fine  sta- 
tion ready  built  for  the  town  that  is  expected  to 
follow  in  the  wake  of  the  railway,  so  we  went  to 
the  refreshment  room  to  get  a  cup  of  coffee. 

"We  don't  serve  coffee,"  said  the  waiter  in 
disdain.  'You  can  have  tea."  So  instead  of 
having  delicious  fresh  coffee  grown  a  mile  away, 
we  had  bad  China  tea  from  over  the  seas. 

Chicago  is  a  dear,  delightful,  dirty  young  place, 
and  Chicago  is  full  of  cultured  people.  Its  new 
post-office  is  as  grimy  after  a  few  years'  life,  as 
Westminster  Abbey  after  as  many  centuries. 

The  town  on  the  shores  of  Lake  Michigan  is 
far  more  a  city  of  home  life,  real  "homey"  home 
life,  than  New  York,  which  is  crowded  with  apart- 
ment houses  or  flats,  while  most  of  its  entertaining 
is  done  at  big  hotels  and  restaurants. 


56  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

Chicago  reminded  us  in  1903  of  its  infancy,  by 
declaring  that  it  was  just  one  hundred  years  old. 
Only  a  century  —  verily  a  mere  babe  among  the 
cities  of  the  world,  and  yet  one  of  the  largest  and 
most  prosperous  of  them  all  to-day. 

Four  things  struck  me  particularly  in  Chicago : 
its  size,  its  women's  clubs,  its  stockyards,  and  its 
grime.  The  city  covers  an  area  of  nearly  forty 
square  miles,  and  those  miles  and  miles  of  houses 
are  really  amazing  when  one  thinks  of  the  youth 
of  the  town,  and  remembers  that  about  forty 
years  ago  much  of  the  city  was  burnt  down. 
Those  huge  stone  buildings,  those  splendid 
churches,  concert  halls,  theatres,  hotels,  fine 
parks,  and  the  magnificent  private  residences  on 
Lake  Shore  Drive  are  practically  the  product  of 
the  last  quarter  of  a  century. 

Perhaps  because  of  its  size,  perhaps  because  of 
its  situation  on  the  banks  of  a  lake  which  is  really 
a  sea,  Chicago  is  both  foggy  and  sooty ;  in  fact,  I 
saw  one  of  the  blackest  fogs  it  has  ever  been  my 
privilege  to  enjoy.  A  wet  mist  had  risen  from  the 
lake,  which,  combined  with  the  smuts  descending 
from  the  factories,  made  a  pea-soup  veil  of  a  damp 
and  hideous  nature. 

I  like  Chicago.  Michigan  Avenue  is  really  a 
fine  thoroughfare.  The  sky-scrapers  are  not  so  tall 
nor  so  imposing,  as  in  New  York,  because  they  are 
built  on  sand  instead  of  being  clamped  to  rock. 


WHERE  ARE  THE  MEN  ?  57 

They  are  square,  more  like  boxes  ;  but  when  the 
great  Field  Museum  is  built  along  the  lake  shore, 
where  the  magnificent  Art  Gallery  already  stands, 
Michigan  Avenue  will  be  finer  still. 

Holland  is  being  reclaimed  by  the  acre.  It  is 
being  dammed  and  drained  and  cultivated  beyond 
recognition ;  but  then  Holland  is  a  small  country 
and  wants  all  its  land.  America  is  vast,  but  it 
also  loves  reclaiming.  Chicago  has  thrown  so 
much  of  its  waste  material  into  the  lake  that  it  is 
making  quite  a  solid  addition  to  its  fore  shore. 
If  Chicago  increases  as  rapidly  in  the  next  cen- 
tury as  in  the  last,  she  will  probably  become  the 
biggest  city  in  the  world.  Chicago  is  spreading 
out,  not  up.  Her  population  grows  at  the  rate 
of  some  two  hundred  thousand  persons  a  year, 
and  it  is  growing  outwards ;  New  York  grows 
upwards. 

The  most  important  new  thing  in  Chicago,  to 
my  mind,  is  the  Art  Institute.  It  is  one  of  the 
most  interesting  things  in  the  States.  This  devel- 
opment of  Art  is  new,  well  patronised,  and  its 
results  will  be  far-reaching. 

Oh,  those  American  roads.  Chicago  does  not 
seem  to  have  so  many  miles  of  road  "  up  "  as  New 
York,  but  she  seems  to  neglect  to  fill  in  the  holes. 

Either  one  bowls  along  fine  "avenues"  of  as- 
phalt track,  or  bumps  into  indentations  about  as 


$8  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

big  as  the  inside  of  a  baby's  perambulator.  Splen- 
did houses  are  approached  by  a  delirious  switch- 
back series  of  jumps  and  bounds.  But  somehow 
American  motors  manage  to  withstand  the  evil. 
Everything  tumbles  on  the  floor ;  even  the  passen- 
gers sometimes  find  themselves  on  their  knees, 
but  to  be  jogged  up  and  bumped  down  nearly  to 
death  is  just  an  amusing  contrast  to  the  smooth 
asphalt  road. 

Bowling  along  Michigan  Avenue,  with  the  green 
waters  of  the  lake  on  our  left,  my  companion 
said  :  — 

"We  have  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles  of  boulevard 
in  Chicago." 

"But  where  are  the  trees  ?"  I  asked. 

"Oh,  we  don't  have  trees;  a  boulevard  is  just 
asphalt,"  was  his  naive  reply. 

Americans  wisely  drive  on  the  right  side  of  the 
road,  like  every  other  nation  except  Great  Britain, 
or  the  Argentine,  to  whom  we  taught  our  bad  ways. 

Our  stupidity  in  Great  Britain  about  many 
things  is  appalling.  For  instance,  our  money. 
Every  land  of  consequence  has  a  decimal  system ; 
the  German  probably  being  the  best  and  our 
foolish  blundering  means  of  counting  the  worst. 
We  have  clean  notes  for  five  pounds,  whereas  other 
countries  have  dirty  ones  for  five  pence,  and  our 
sovereign  is  current  coin  the  world  over ;  but 
otherwise  our  heavy  dirty  coppers  and  clumsy 


WHERE  ARE  THE  MEN?  59 

silver  of  no  decimal  value  are  incomprehensible  to 
the  traveller. 

In  Brazil  they  count  in  decimals,  but  the  notes 
are  small  in  size  and  value,  while  the  sums  appear 
to  be  perfectly  colossal  and  are  not. 

Then  again  our  weights  and  measures  are  a 
menace  ;  our  thermometers  are  bewildering  and 
annoying  to  the  rest  of  mankind.  What  right 
have  we  to  be  annoying  to  anybody  ? 

There  should  be  one  universal  coinage  value, 
stamp  value,  weight  and  measure  value,  and  one 
thermometer  for  the  world,  to  benefit  interna- 
tional commerce.  It  would  save  many  of  us 
making  a  lumber-room  of  our  poor  brains. 

It  is  impossible  to  do  more  than  give  a  cursory 
list  of  a  few  of  the  kindly  folk  whom  I  met  or  who 
entertained  me  in  Chicago. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Chatfield-Taylor,  Mrs.  Pullman, 
Mrs.  R.  Hall  McCormick,  Mrs.  Elia  Peattie,  Mr. 
Ralph  Clarkson,  Miss  Hariet  Munroe,  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Francis  Walker  (who  kindly  made  their  house 
my  home),  Dr.  James  Walker,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gurley, 
Colonel  Charles  Page  Bryan,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  John 
Herrick,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Robert  Herrick,  Miss  Jane 
Addams,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  T.  Goodbody,  Mrs.  Joseph 
Long,  Mrs.  Conkey,  Mrs.  Lyons,  Mrs.  E.  J.  Blos- 
som, Dr.  and  Mrs.  A.  A.  Small,  Mrs.  Lorenzo  John- 
son, Mrs.  John  Jelke,  Dean  Sumner,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 


60  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

Thomas  Ritchie,  Mrs.  A.  B.  Wiles  (Woman's 
Club),  Mrs.  Pennypacker  of  Texas,  Mr.  Charles 
Major,  Mr.  Hateley,  Mrs.  Dester  Donelson,  Mrs. 
Fish,  Mrs.  E.  Masters,  Mrs.  Allright,  Mrs.  Ed. 
Bowman,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hamlin  Garland,  Mrs. 
Gustav  Straus,  Mr.  John  McCutcheon. 

I  am  always  sorry  to  leave  Chicago,  poor,  much- 
abused  Chicago.  It  is  a  great  city  of  cultured 
people,  and  it  is  reaching  the  age  of  maturity. 

Its  Little  Room  Club  is  something  to  be  proud 
of. 

Every  Friday  at  tea-time  that  brilliant  artist, 
Mr.  Frank  Clarkson,  lends  his  studio  for  the 
Club's  tea-party.  It  is  quite  a  small  affair,  and  no 
one  who  lives  in  the  city  can  go  unless  a  member. 
To  be  a  member  one  must  be  distinguished  in  Art, 
Science,  Literature,  or  something  high-browed  and 
brainy.  By  good  fortune  the  writer  has  several 
times  enjoyed  the  hospitality  of  that  Little  Room 
Club.  Every  "  distinguished  visitor  "  to  the  city 
is  invited,  and  as  each  week  there  is  an  actor  or 
musician  or  somebody  of  note,  most  delightful 
afternoons  are  spent  in  the  company  of  this  quaint 
little  coterie. 

Brains,  charm,  hospitality,  and  kindliness  are 
my  impressions  of  the  Little  Room  Club,  with  its 
shining  brass  Samovar  tea  tackle.  Would  we  had 
more  of  these  small  intellectual  centres  in  Great 
Britain.  They  cost  nothing  and  they  mean  much  : 


WHERE  ARE  THE  MEN?  61 

wealth  of  mind,  exchange  of  views,  broadened  out- 
look, and  inspiration. 

The  "  Explorers  "  have  a  Club,  the  only  one  of  its 
kind.  It  is  in  New  York,  and  a  charming  little 
place  it  is.  They  also  gave  me  a  tea,  among  many 
delightful  teas,  and  there  some  of  the  interesting 
men  and  women  of  America  assembled. 

To  name  but  a  few :  my  old  friend  Professor 
Marshall  Saville,  whom  I  first  met  in  the  depths  of 
an  ancient  Mexican  tomb  near  Oaxaca,  when  he 
was  making  exploration  of  that  wonderful  land, 
and  I  was  writing  "Mexico  as  I  saw  It."  The 
Director  of  the  Natural  History  Museum,  Dr. 
Frederic  Lucas.  Mr.  Charles  Sheldon,  who  has 
lately  explored  Alaska,  and  written  two  bulky 
volumes  on  the  subject.  Vilhjalmr  Stefansson,  of 
Icelandic  descent,  who  recently  returned  from  a 
four  years'  sojourn  among  the  Eskimos  of  Corona- 
tion Gulf,  and  discovered  the  "blond  Eskimos." 
Professor  Parker,  lately  returned  from  an  ascent  of 
Mount  McKinley  to  within  three  hundred  feet  of 
the  summit.  Mr.  Dellenbaugh,  who  in  1871  ac- 
companied Major  Powell  in  the  first  exploration 
of  the  Grand  Canon  of  the  Colorado.  Dr.  Henry 
Crampton,  zoological  explorer  in  the  South  Sea 
Islands  and  in  British  Guiana. 

Among  others  was  Mr.  Algot  Lange,  a  Dane  by 
birth,  who  has  explored  and  written  a  book  on  part 
of  the  Amazon,  and  with  whom  I  travelled  on  the 


62  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

same  ship  en  route  for  South  America.  This  en- 
thusiastic young  man,  who  has  learnt  remarkable 
American  in  eight  years,  is  the  head  of  sixteen 
men  sent  out  by  the  University  of  Philadelphia 
to  collect  information  relative  to  the  aboriginal 
inhabitants  of  the  Amazon  Valley,  and  to  explore 
the  forests  where  these  primitive  peoples  still 
roam  untouched  by  civilisation.  It  is  delightful 
to  find  enthusiasts.  Enthusiasm  moves  the  world, 
and  explorers  open  new  fields  for  men  of  brains, 
and  new  markets  for  produce. 

Wars  were  raging  in  the  winter  of  1912,  and  yet 
Mr.  Carnegie  and  Baroness  von  Ziittner  were  both 
assuring  America  that  Universal  Peace  was  at 
hand. 

A  nation  that  does  not  fear  war  unfortunately 
becomes  slow,  selfish,  and  lethargic,  while  a  people 
who  live  on  the  borderland  of  peace  are  alive, 
active,  alert,  wakeful. 

In  the  millennium,  Courts  of  Justice  may  settle 
disputes  of  war  by  arbitration,  but  while  young 
blood  exists,  that  millennium  is  a  far  cry. 

The  Baroness  von  Ziittner  is  a  woman  of  seventy. 
Short  in  stature,  ample  in  build,  with  a  strong, 
handsome  face,  the  old  lady,  in  long,  swinging, 
black  velvet  robes  and  jet  tiara  and  veil,  does  not 
look  anything  like  her  age,  and  possesses  a  quiet  dig- 
nity that  tells.  Such  a  personality  was  Baroness 


WHERE  ARE  THE  MEN?  63 

von  Ziittner,  the  well-known  Austrian  writer  and 
lecturer  on  Peace.  She  gave  one  hundred  and  fifty 
lectures  in  America  in  six  months,  in  English  — 
and  excellent  English,  too.  The  fact  of  her  speak- 
ing slowly  made  her  words  all  the  more  telling,  and 
as  she  occasionally  paused  a  second  for  a  word, 
that  word  was  heard  with  extra  force  when  it 
came.  She  spoke  of  Universal  Peace  as  inevitable, 
and  strongly  advocated  her  cause ;  dwelt  on  the 
Balkan  trouble  then  raging,  and  maintained  this 
was  the  death  knell  of  war. 

We  met  at  Lake  Forest  near  Chicago,  at  the 
pretty  home  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Chatfield-Taylor, 
leaders  of  society  in  its  best  form.  Mr.  Chatfield- 
Taylor  is  a  writer  of  history  and  fiction ;  and  he 
gathers  about  him  men  and  women  of  influence 
and  charm.  The  Italian  and  German  consuls, 
the  head  of  the  Naval  College,  the  head  of  the 
Lake  Forest  College,  such  were  the  people  at  the 
luncheon.  Brain  was  in  the  ascendant,  not  mere 
money.  And  the  chatelaine  of  the  house  is  so 
beautiful,  she  is  always  a  joy  to  look  upon. 

A  pretty,  clever  woman  with  housewifely  in- 
stincts is  Fate's  kindest  gift  to  the  world,  both 
good  to  look  at  and  to  live  with. 


CHAPTER   III 
OUR  AMERICAN  SISTERS 

How  amused  those  delightful  Americans  must 
often  be  over  us.  How  dull  and  cold  and  hard  we 
are  as  a  nation  they  have  no  hesitation  in  telling 
us.  They  think  us  stiff,  formal,  unbending.  They 
tell  us  that  our  cooking  is  vile  ;  that  our  homes  are 
comfortable,  but  cold.  They  consider  we  dress 
badly,  especially  the  women ;  that  we  all  lead 
easy,  indolent  lives,  that  we  never  hurry,  that  our 
men  start  business  late  and  end  early,  and  that  we 
spend  much  of  our  time  —  even  in  city  offices  - 
in  calmly  enjoying  our  "honourable  tea,"  as  our 
Eastern  friends  would  call  it.  I've  heard  them 
say  all  these  things  again  and  again. 

We  must  amuse  them,  and  we  must  interest 
them,  if  these  idiosyncrasies  make  so  profound  an 
impression  on  them.  They  are  always  giving  us 
sly  little  raps,  and  yet  they  must  like  us  a  tiny  wee 
bit,  or  they  would  not  come  in  shoals  to  visit  our 
shores. 

An  Englishwoman  is  a  rarity  in  the  States.  Men 
go  over  for  business,  but  women  do  not,  nor  do 
they  travel  over  there  for  pleasure,  which  is  a 
pity. 

64 


OUR  AMERICAN  SISTERS 


66  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

"Why  don't  Englishwomen  come  more  often  ?" 
is  constantly  being  asked  with  surprise. 

The  answer  is  simple.  The  average  upper- 
middle-class  Englishwoman,  the  daughter  of  a  pro- 
fessional man,  or  the  wife  of  an  officer,  is  not  rich. 
She  is  educated,  and  she  loves  to  travel ;  but  five 
hundred  dollars  is  all  she  can  spend  on  her  summer 
holiday.  With  five  hundred  dollars  she  can  go  to 
Italy  or  Spain,  France  or  Germany,  for  a  couple  of 
months,  or  even  three  months,  if  she  is  economical 
and  knows  the  language  (which  she  generally  does), 
and  she  can  see  one  old  historic  spot  after  another  ; 
one  people  after  another  with  their  national  charms 
and  habits,  and  all  the  time  she  is  within  hail  of 
her  home.  She  is  learning  History  and  Art,  and 
perfecting  a  foreign  tongue. 

What  could  she  do  with  five  hundred  dollars  if 
she  wanted  to  see  America  ? 

One  third  of  it,  at  the  very  lowest  estimate,  would 
go  in  passage  money.  She  would  land  with  three 
hundred  dollars.  Now,  what  would  that  English- 
woman know  of  America  on  three  hundred  dollars  ? 
Why,  nothing.  She  might  spend  a  fortnight  in 
sea-sickness,  and  beyond  two  or  three  weeks  in 
New  York,  she  would  travel  nowhere.  She  earns 
English  pay,  and  can  live  happily  at  English  rates. 
Wages  are  higher  in  America,  and  so  is  everything 
else,  except  the  theatre. 

If  she  has  two  or  three  times  that  sum  to  spend, 


OUR  AMERICAN  SISTERS  67 

let  her  forget  history,  art,  foreign  languages,  and 
all  the  things  to  which  she  is  accustomed  to  revel 
in  her  holiday.  In  America  she  can  see  modern 
history  in  the  making ;  —  a  new  people,  new  ideas, 
new  inspirations ;  and  she  will  thus  gain  new 
thoughts,  new  ambitions.  The  result  is  worth  the 
effort.  Our  European  incomes  meet  European 
requirements.  American  incomes  meet  American 
demands.  One  country  is  no  better  off,  even 
among  the  rich,  than  the  other.  In  neither  land  do 
the  upper  classes  represent  a  nation.  Americans 
have  French  frocks,  French  chefs,  Englishmen's 
wear,  English  nurses,  governesses,  and  grooms ; 
German  odds  and  ends ;  and  in  fact,  rich  classes 
are  cosmopolitan  to  the  hilt,  and  not  representative 
of  any  nation. 

As  I  suggested  to  Mrs.  Pennypacker  of  Austin, 
Texas,  at  the  famous  "Woman's  Club"  in  Chicago, 
a  suggestion  which  she  handed  on  to  the  mem- 
bers round  the  luncheon  table  in  my  name :  the 
best  way  to  get  this  interchange  of  thought  is  to 
make  an  interchange  of  women.  Schools  should 
invite  teachers,  Universities  should  invite  students. 
During  the  long  vacation  this  would  be  simple 
enough,  and  by  its  means  a  young  woman  would 
spend  a  couple  of  months  in  an  English  home,  or 
vice  versa.  It  would  be  to  the  benefit  of  both 
nations.  We  are  one,  and  yet  we  are  dissimilar  in 
so  many  ways  that  the  tightening  of  more  friendly 


68  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

ties  would  be  good  for  both  ;  especially  in  the  case 
of  women,  for  women  make  nations.  It  is  the 
women  who  have  so  largely  contributed  to  the  suc- 
cess of  the  United  States. 

It  is  unfortunate  so  few  strangers  really  know 
English  country  life  at  its  best.  They  motor 
through  rural  England,  stay  in  country  inns,  peep 
at  the  fields  and  hedges  and  woods  and  gardens,  see 
all  that  is  public  ;  but  they  do  not  live  in  the  homes. 
Naturally  they  cannot,  unless  good  fortune  pro- 
vides them  with  an  introduction.  One  wishes  they 
could  see  more,  understand  better  our  week-end 
parties. 

Roughly  speaking,  one  is  invited  from  Friday  till 
Monday.  Between  tea  and  dinner  the  guests 
arrive ;  they  are  met  at  the  station  by  cars  or 
carriages,  and  a  cart  for  the  luggage. 

In  the  hall  they  are  welcomed  by  the  host  and 
hostess.  King  Edward  always  met  his  important 
guests  at  the  station,  however  busy  he  was ;  that 
is  the  politeness  of  kings,  which  is  equivalent  to, 
and  as  punctilious  as,  the  punctuality  of  Royalty. 

After  a  little  chat  the  guests  are  shown  to  their 
rooms,  the  most  important  lady  by  the  hostess, 
and  the  others  by  the  daughters.  The  men  per- 
haps have  a  cigarette  in  the  smoking-room  or 
billiard-room  before  going  to  dress  for  dinner. 

Dinner  is  generally  at  eight  o'clock  or  a  quarter 


OUR  AMERICAN  SISTERS  69 

past,  and  everyone  assembles  in  the  drawing-room, 
or  large  hall — where  the  latter  is  used  as  a  sitting- 
room  —  a  few  minutes  before  that  time.  Every- 
one is  in  full  dress.  If  it  is  a  small  party,  dinner 
jackets  and  half-low  dresses  are  worn ;  if  a  large 
party  of  a  dozen  or  twenty,  dress-coats  and  full 
dinner  gowns.  Naturally  the  host  offers  his  arm 
to  the  most  important  lady  and  places  her  on  his 
right,  and  the  hostess  brings  up  the  rear  with  the 
most  important  man,  whom  she  puts  on  her  left. 

At  breakfast  and  luncheon  people  go  in  as  they 
please,  and  often  sit  where  they  like ;  but  at  din- 
ner there  is  more  formality,  although  if  there  are 
several  people  of  equal  or  nearly  equal  rank,  they 
are  generally  taken  down  in  turn  by  the  host,  just 
for  a  little  change.  This  is  good  both  for  the  host 
and  the  guest. 

After  dinner  the  ladies  leave  the  room  at  a  nod 
from  the  hostess  to  the  chief  lady  guest,  the  host 
standing  by  the  door  to  see  them  out.  They  have 
coffee  in  the  drawing-room,  and  cigarettes  are 
handed  round,  although  not  often  smoked. 

In  the  dining-room,  coffee  and  cigars  follow  the 
port,  —  which  has  been  offered  while  the  ladies 
are  still  present,  —  and  the  host,  after  a  few  min- 
utes' conversation  with  his  neighbours,  leaves  his 
end  of  the  table  once  he  has  seen  them  happily 
started,  and  sits  in  his  wife's  seat  to  enjoy  a  little 
chat  with  the  two  most  important  men. 


70  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  or  twenty  minutes  is  usually 
allowed,  and  then  the  men  join  the  women.  People 
generally  break  up  into  little  parties ;  some  play 
bridge,  some  talk,  some  enjoy  music,  or,  if  there 
are  young  people,  they  dance.  At  half  past  ten, 
trays  arrive  with  boiling  water,  which  is  a  very 
usual  drink  nowadays,  lemons,  barley  water, 
whiskey,  etc. ;  and  about  eleven  o'clock  the  party 
begins  to  break  up. 

The  hostess  again  takes  her  chief  guest  to  her 
room  on  the  pretext  of  seeing  that  everything  is 
all  right. 

As  a  rule,  if  there  is  to  be  a  shoot  on  the  Satur- 
day morning,  the  men  breakfast  alone  about  half 
past  eight  or  nine  o'clock,  and  get  off  early ;  the 
women  either  breakfast  together  later,  or  in  their 
rooms,  and  about  noon  some  of  them  go  for  a 
walk,  or  if  on  golfing  bent,  they  start  earlier ;  but 
in  winter,  when  pheasant-shooting  is  going  on, 
if  the  distance  from  the  house  is  not  great,  the  men 
often  return  to  a  one  o'clock  luncheon,  or  the  lunch- 
eon and  the  ladies  join  them  somewhere  near  by. 
The  meal  is  quickly  over,  as  the  days  are  short, 
and  before  two  o'clock  they  are  off  again.  Hot 
Irish  stew  is  a  real  winter  dish  for  shooting  parties, 
otherwise  everything  is  generally  cold.  Usually 
after  luncheon  some  of  the  women  "walk  with  the 
guns."  By  four  o'clock  it  is  too  dark  to  shoot,  and 
they  wend  their  way  home. 


OUR  AMERICAN  SISTERS  71 

Pretty  tea-gowns  take  the  place  of  short  tweed 
skirts  and  muddy  boots,  and  everyone  gathers 
round  the  open  fire  for  tea.  That  is  the  happy 
hour ;  the  wood  crackles  on  the  hearth,  the  kettle 
hisses,  the  sandwiches  and  cakes  are  appetising; 
everyone  is  pleasantly  tired  and  full  of  experiences. 
A  game  of  bridge,  sometimes  patience  or  billiards, 
needlework  or  chatter,  and  then  the  dressing  bell 
rings  at  seven  o'clock  and  people  begin  to  think  of 
dinner. 

Sunday  may  mean  church  or  walks,  golf,  a  visit 
to  the  gardens,  stables,  and  hothouses ;  and  in 
some  large  country  houses,  even  an  inspection  of 
the  kitchens  after  tea. 

Monday  morning  dawns,  and  all  is  over.  Men 
leave  early  for  business  or  their  profession ;  some 
of  the  women  go  with  them,  others  remain  till  a 
more  convenient  hour,  but  the  knell  of  the  week- 
end has  tolled. 

Would  that  more  strangers  could  enjoy  the  re- 
finement, the  peace,  and  pleasure  of  our  English 
country  life. 

No  American  education  is  complete  without  a 
visit  to  Europe,  and  yet  it  is  an  extraordinary 
thing  that  there  are  men  in  the  highest  offices  in 
the  States,  who  not  only  have  never  been  out  of 
America,  nor  stepped  into  Canada,  nor  Mexico, 
but  who  have  never  even  wandered  from  their  own 


72  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

particular  state.  This  did  not  matter  so  long  as 
America  remained  self-contained  within  her  boun- 
daries ;  but  now  she  has  a  say  in  world-politics, 
and  joins  in  world-arbitration,  now  that  she  has 
acquired  the  Philippines,  her  young  men  will  have 
to  be  encouraged  to  travel,  or  the  American  will 
become  narrow-minded. 

He  is  too  materialistic.  He  lacks  ideals.  It  is 
all  very  well  to  build  a  nation  of  brick  and  mortar. 
Straight  lines  of  bricks  and  binding  mortar  hold 
together  and  make  a  good  house,  but  more  than 
that  is  wanted  to  build  it  satisfactorily  —  some 
feeling,  some  sense  of  decoration,  some  sense  of 
proportion,  some  suggestion  of  beauty ;  and  it  is 
thus  with  the  American.  The  handful  of  idealists 
are  merely  a  unit  among  millions  of  people.  One 
longs  for  the  day  when  one  will  hear  less  of  dollars 
and  more  of  learning. 

The  spiritual  inspiration  of  women  has  always 
been  men's  best  motive  power. 

Idealism  is  woman's  realm.  She  may,  and  does, 
have  executive  ability,  but  by  nature  she  is  an  ideal- 
ist, and  America  wants  women  in  public  life  to-day 
to  guide  her  gently  through  those  materialistic 
chains  in  whose  grip  the  country  is  held  in  thral- 
dom. Public  life  in  the  States  should  be  easy 
enough ;  there  are  less  traditions  than  in  Europe, 
and  all  Europe's  experience  to  draw  upon. 

A  woman  once  said  when  asked  why  she  yawned, 


OUR  AMERICAN  SISTERS  73 

that  she  had  not  slept  well,  and  that  she  was  very 
tired. 

"Yes,  but  I've  gotten  used  to  it.  You  see,  my 
husband  wakes  about  five  every  morning.  From 
that  moment  he  fidgets.  He  gets  up,  pulls  up  the 
blinds,  fusses  about,  talks  to  me,  even  though  I 
pretend  to  be  asleep,  for  I  am  often  deadly  tired ; 
at  half  past  five  he  rings  the  upstairs  bell  to  waken 
the  maids  because  our  breakfast  is  at  seven  sharp. 
After  he  has  fussed  around  he  has  his  bath." 

"But  is  the  water  hot  ?"  I  hesitatingly  inquired. 

"Water  here  is  always  hot,  in  winter,  because  of 
our  heating  system.  After  his  bath  the  barber 
comes,  and  as  the  clock  hands  mark  seven,  down  to 
breakfast  he  and  I  and  our  three  sons  sit.  We 
dare  not  be  late.  He  is  a  dear,  but  an  autocrat ; 
a  self-made  man,  but  a  despot.  At  half  past  seven 
the  car  comes  round,  and  he  and  my  sons  go  off  to 
business.  Then  I  gasp  and  begin  to  live." 

"Must  he  go  so  early  ?" 

"Not  at  all ;  but  my  husband  is  one  of  the  money- 
making  machines  of  America.  He  is  all  hands  and 
feet  and  nerves.  There  are  thousands  of  them  who 
begin  at  fourteen  to  make  a  living,  and  at  forty 
have  no  idea  of  anything  else.  He  could  depute 
the  work  of  opening  the  office  to  others,  but  not  a 
bit  of  it ;  he  won't." 

"What  a  life!" 

"He  works  all  day,  gets  home  at  six  or  half  past ; 


74  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

wants  a  very  good  dinner,  a  good  cigar,  and  a 
snooze ;  then  he  pretends  to  read  the  evening 
paper,  and  about  half  past  eight  he  begins  to  fidget 
again,  and  by  nine  o'clock  goes  off  to  bed.  Year 
in,  year  out,  it  is  the  same.  Money  ?  Why,  I 
hate  the  name  of  money.  I  want  less  money  and 
more  life.  Do  you  wonder  I  never  try  to  give 
dinners,  and  that  I  content  myself  with  lunches 
and  bridge  parties  ?" 

Men  and  women  lead  totally  distinct  lives ;  the 
men  work  for  gold,  the  women  strive  for  intellec- 
tual charm  ;  both  are  successful,  but  their  interests 
in  common  are  surprisingly  few.  As  a  nation  ad- 
vances, men  cease  to  be  content  to  strive  only  for 
money,  and  women  find  a  lack  of  sympathy  in  men 
who  are  intellectually  their  inferiors.  It  will  right 
itself  in  the  States,  no  doubt ;  but  meantime,  the 
women  have  all  the  innings. 

A  Revolution  !  Nothing  short  of  a  revolution. 
Bloodless,  but  far-reaching.  No  bullets  have  been 
fired  ;  but  the  whole  economic  condition  of  affairs 
has  been,  and  is  being,  revolutionised  by  women  in 
all  the  educated  communities  of  the  world. 

It  is  no  longer  possible  to  shrug  one's  shoulders 
and  use  the  word  "woman"  as  synonymous  with 
weakness.  Physically,  women  may  not  be  men's 
equals ;  but  where  brains  and  character  are  con- 
cerned, they  have  proved  again  and  again  that, 


OUR  AMERICAN  SISTERS  75 

given  the  same  opportunities,   they  do  not   lag 
behind. 

All  the  big  questions  that  are  being  probed  to- 
day with  their  suggested  reforms  are  the  outcome  of 
women's  cooperation. 

All  women  cannot  be  workers  any  more  than  all 
men  can  be  soldiers.  Childless  women  must  do 
their  share  in  the  national  work.  The  nation  is 
crying  for  their  aid  in  civic  and  political  life. 

Men  are  not  ostracised  if  they  cannot  fight. 
Why,  then,  should  women,  capable  of  working  in 
different  spheres,  be  dealt  with  any  less  generously  ? 
This  is  Woman's  century.  In  its  first  thirteen 
years  she  has  swept  away  many  old  prejudices, 
and  before  its  close  —  long,  long  before  its  close  - 
I  hope  to  see  equality  of  the  sexes  in  all  things 
that  concern  the  work  of  the  world.  Women  are 
marching  onwards  in  every  land.  Their  advance- 
ment and  the  progress  of  civilisation  are  synony- 
mous terms  to-day. 

The  cry  of  women  for  a  living  wage  arises  from 
no  desire  to  oust  men  —  far  from  it ;  and  but  for 
the  generosity  of  certain  men,  women  would  never 
have  attained  the  position  they  now  hold.  It  is 
modern  machinery  that  is  robbing  men  of  work,  or 
rather  causing  readjustment  of  occupation.  To- 
day women  sit  in  the  Parliament  Houses  of  Finland 
and  Norway ;  soon  they  will  probably  do  so  in 
Holland  and  Denmark.  France  has  women  law- 


76  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

yers,  America  —  women  clergy.  Women  have  re- 
ceived the  Nobel  prize.  Nearly  seven  hundred 
women  have  taken  medical  degrees  in  Great  Brit- 
ain alone. 

Pale  young  ladies  of  the  Jane  Austen  or  the 
Bronte  era  fainted,  screamed  at  sight  of  a  mouse, 
wore  thin  white  satin  slippers  and  ball  dresses  out 
of  doors,  and  had  the  "vapours"  ;  but  were  they 
any  more  loved  and  respected  than  the  modern 
woman,  with  all  her  health  and  strength  and 
courage  ?  We  can  never  go  back  to  those  days, 
when  Byron  spoke  of  "soulless  toys  for  tyrants' 
lusts."  True,  those  words  still  apply  to  most 
women  of  the  East,  and  we  see  that  Eastern  civilisa- 
tion has  remained  stagnant  in  consequence. 

The  greater  the  women,  the  greater  the  country. 

What  women  are  doing  in  public  life,  however, 
suggests  only  inadequately  the  part  they  are  play- 
ing in  the  world's  work.  Obstacles  to  the  feminine 
advance  are  being  mowed  down  like  wheat  in  all 
directions,  to  be  swept  away  with  the  insensate 
prejudices  of  a  past  era. 

Politicians  are  glad  to  have  the  assistance  of 
women  in  influencing  the  electors,  and  doing  the 
hard  work  of  canvassing  and  platform  speaking ; 
but  a  large  number,  at  any  rate  (we  must  be  gener- 
ous to  those  who  regard  us  as  fellow  human  beings), 
will  not  listen  to  suggestions  to  give  women  the  po- 
litical vote.  In  municipal  life  men  are  anxious  to 


OUR  AMERICAN  SISTERS  77 

secure  women's  voluntary  assistance  in  a  hundred 
capacities,  but  offer  them  no  share  in  the  rewards 
and,  at  best,  but  niggardly  thanks.  Women  may 
serve  them  by  unselfish  work  on  committees,  and 
in  other  capacities,  but  must  ask  for  no  power, 
and  expect  but  little  voice  in  the  direction  of  pub- 
lic affairs.  This  state  of  things  is  bound  to  go. 

Women  are  coming  forward  and  preparing  them- 
selves for  public  work.  I  hope  the  day  will  come 
when  women  will  not  only  sit  upon  all  public  com- 
missions, but  on  juries,  and  among  Counsel  at  the 
Bar.  Women  may  take  a  law  degree  in  England, 
but  practice  is  closed  to  them,  although  they  may 
plead  their  own  case  ;  the  States  are  ahead  of  us  in 
this ;  but  we  have  a  woman  magistrate  for  lunacy 
matters : 

"  Miss  Emily  Duncan,  chairman  of  the  West  Ham 
Board  of  Guardians,  has  been  specially  permitted 
by  the  Lord  Chancellor  to  act  as  a  Justice  of 
the  Peace  in  lunacy  matters  at  the  workhouse 
infirmary.  Miss  Duncan,  it  is  stated,  is  the  first 
woman  who  has  been  allowed  to  officiate  in  this 
capacity. 

"An  application  for  the  purpose  was  made  by 
the  West  Ham  Guardians  to  the  Lord  Chancellor, 
who,  in  a  former  case  of  a  similar  kind  at  Bethnal 
Green  some  years  ago,  directed  that  the  ex-chair- 
man of  the  board  should  perform  this  function 
when  the  chairman  happened  to  be  a  woman." 

And  another  woman  is  a  Justice  of  the  Peace  : 


78  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

"  Miss  Seddon,  chairman  of  the  Huddersfield 
Board  of  Guardians,  who  has  devoted  more  than 
thirty  years  to  Poor-law-work,  has  been  made  a 
justice  of  the  peace  for  the  certification  of 
lunatics." 

Many  women  possess  keen  executive  minds,  yet 
comparatively  few  are  to  be  found  on  the  boards  of 
big  business  concerns.  Might  not  their  services  be 
invaluable  on  steamship  bodies,  where  the  practi- 
cal side  of  housing  and  catering  concerns  women 
passengers  as  much  as  men  ?  Men  and  women 
can  and  should  work  harmoniously  together  for 
the  public  good,  each  bringing  his  or  her  particular 
point  of  view  to  bear,  and  so  by  criticising, 
strengthen  the  other.  Men  are  apt  to  forget  the 
aesthetic,  intellectual,  and  spiritual  side  of  their 
relationship  with  women.  Women  are  showing 
them  the  way,  giving  them  friendship  in  return  for 
freedom.  Comradeship  of  men  and  women  on 
committees  nearly  always  has  advantages.  Men 
sometimes  resent  the  advent  of  women,  but  they 
seldom  fail  to  acknowledge  their  services  in  the  long 
run. 

Women  wholly  absorbed  by  babies  and  stockpots 
have  no  time  for  anything  else.  Domestic  labour 
with  its  constantly  recurring  little  irritants  is 
certainly  not  sufficiently  recompensed  by  money  or 
thanks.  Wives  for  the  first  years,  while  bearing 
and  rearing  children,  should  be  saved  all  unneces- 


OUR  AMERICAN  SISTERS  79 

sary  work  and  worry ;  but  those  years  are 
only  a  part  of  a  woman's  existence,  and  only 
half  the  women  are  wives  and  mothers,  and 
therefore  a  constant  stream  of  them  is  entering 
economic  life,  either  from  necessity  or  from 
choice ;  when  from  necessity,  the  pay  should 
be  adequate,  and  when  from  choice,  the  thanks 
should  be  generous.  Women  have  a  great  stake 
in  the  country ;  they  pay  considerable  taxes, 
although  paid  less  for  their  labour,  and  fewer 
Government  posts  are  open  to  them ;  still,  they 
have  no  control  over  the  expenditure  of  the 
Public  Funds. 

Woman's  sphere  is  the  home ;  but  the  world 
must  be  her  horizon.  Thousands,  breaking  down 
the  barriers  set  by  convention  to  mark  the  limits 
of  "women's  work,"  go  forth  into  the  world  and 
labour  to  keep  their  little  homes  together.  Very 
soon  the  woman  toiler  bruises  her  elbows  against 
the  barriers  set  by  convention  to  mark  the  limits 
of  "women's  work." 

I  cannot  entreat  too  strongly  that  there  should 
be  no  such  question  as  "women's  work."  Work  is 
work,  and  all  work  should  be  open  to  men  and 
women  alike.  Women  are  competent  or  incom- 
petent, and  in  any  given  instance  should  be  ac- 
cepted or  rejected  on  that  ground.  But  to  accept 
or  reject  them  merely  because  they  are  women 
seems  to  me  as  rational  a  proceeding  as  to  accept  or 


8o  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

reject  four  pounds  of  butter  merely  because  it  is 
four  o'clock. 

The  English  household  purse  is,  alas,  too  often 
dominated  by  the  men. 

In  America,  as  elsewhere,  women  understand 
men  much  better  than  men  understand  women. 
Men  are  more  shy  than  women  and  often  more 
modest.  Men  are  more  vain  than  women. 
Women  are  the  pivot  round  which  men  scintillate. 
Women  are  their  inspiration.  Men's  actions  are 
largely  formed  to  please  or  anger  a  woman. 

All  professions  are  open  to  American  women,  and 
their  work  is  looked  upon  as  honourable.  Thank 
God  for  that.  They  are  admired  for  their  wage- 
earning  capacity,  and  often  earn  wages  even  when 
they  have  a  husband  who  might  earn  for  them. 

Alas  !  their  social  position  is  as  often  gauged  by 
dollars  as  by  charm. 

Everyone  in  America  is  ticketed.  The  stranger 
is  at  once  told  how  much  a  certain  man  is  worth, 
or  how  many  dollars  he  made  lately,  or  how  many 
dollars  he  will  make  soon,  not  what  he  really  is. 

We  all  get  our  chances  in  life,  but  men,  so  far, 
have  had  more  chances  than  women,  and  therefore 
have  taken  them  oftener.  Women  have  much  to 
learn.  As  one  cannot  judge  a  class  by  its  brilliant 
exceptions,  so  one  must  not  judge  it  by  its  lack  of 
opportunities. 

Notwithstanding  the  impecuniosity  of  women,  in 


OUR  AMERICAN  SISTERS  81 

one  year  in  England  they  collected  in  pence  and 
pounds  the  huge  sum  of  five  hundred  thousand 
dollars  to  finance  their  agitation  to  get  the  vote. 
In  spite  of  this  sum  (largely  contributed  by  the 
poorest),  in  spite  of  mass  meetings  of  thousands 
and  tens  of  thousands  of  women,  there  are  men 
who  still  declare,  "Women  don't  want  the  vote/' 

The  vote  is  not  given  to  any  because  they  are 
good.  It  is  an  attribute  of  citizenship. 

Women  are  sometimes  upbraided  for  being  dis- 
contented, but  surely  without  ambition  and  dis- 
contentment the  world  would  never  progress.  It  is 
no  longer  possible  to  shirk  the  questions  raised  by 
women,  or  not  to  realise  that,  when  the  doors  have 
been  opened  to  them,  they  have  done  their  work 
well. 

Apparently  women  will  never  have  their  wrongs 
redressed  until  they  can  command  a  voice  in  the 
country's  affairs.  The  vote  alone,  it  seems,  will 
give  them  a  proper  status  in  the  world. 

In  the  United  States  there  are  one  million  eight 
hundred  thousand  less  women  than  men  ;  in  Great 
Britain  it  is  the  other  way  because  our  colonies 
and  our  shipping  absorb  so  many  men.  Women 
already  constitute  considerably  over  one  third  of 
the  entire  student  body  of  America.  This  shows 
their  enormous  desire  for  education.  In  a  few 
years  there  will  be  as  many  women  as  men  students 


82  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

in  the  land.  Is  it  likely  that  these  women  will  be 
content  to  remain  without  a  vote,  while  the  men, 
beside  whom  they  have  sat  in  college  classes,  have 
their  political  status  ? 

It  was  wonderful  how  America,  during  the  last 
election,  wakened  up  to  the  necessity  of  social  re- 
form. It  was  the  dominant  issue  of  the  presi- 
dential conflict.  The  country  realised  rank  abuses 
existed  in  business  and  politics. 

Women  can  runs  homes,  organise  establishments. 
Why  on  earth  then  should  they  not  be  able  to 
undertake  civic  housekeeping  ? 

There  is  no  doubt  about  it,  a  great  reformation  is 
at  hand,  and  the  women  who  have  been  working 
so  long  and  so  loyally  organising  their  own  homes 
will  be  called  upon  all  the  world  over  to  help  in  the 
organisation  of  the  towns  in  which  they  live. 

American  women  want  the  suffrage.  And  they 
will  get  it,  without  undignified  resource  to  ham- 
mers or  window-smashing. 

The  Convention  signed  in  June,  1913,  for  Roose- 
velt at  Chicago,  was  actually  seconded  by  a  woman, 
to  wit  —  Jane  Addams.  "Roosevelt  would  have 
given  women  the  vote.  Wilson  is  wobbly.  Taft 
would  withhold  it,"  explained  a  man  to  me. 

Too  much  affluence  may  be  the  ruin  of  America's 
daughters.  Fathers,  who  have  made  vast  fortunes, 
perhaps,  wish  to  shield  their  girls  too  much.  There 
used  to  be  an  unwritten  law  by  which  brothers  and 


OUR  AMERICAN  SISTERS  83 

sisters  inherited  alike ;  but  latterly,  there  appears 
to  be  a  tendency  to  leave  even  more  to  the  daugh- 
ters, not  so  much  for  them  to  live  upon,  as 
to  enable  them  to  keep  up  a  smart  social  posi- 
tion. 

Too  much  luxury  saps  ambition  in  either  sex, 
and  in  every  land.  Millions  of  wealth  are  spent  in 
procuring  infinitesimal  health. 

The  college  women  of  America  are  a  great  factor. 
Roughly,  about  forty  per  cent  go  out  into  the  world 
to  earn  their  own  living.  Another  ten  per  cent 
take  up  philanthropic  work. 

The  South  has  long  been  behind  the  North. 
War  depopulated  the  land.  The  abolition  of  the 
slave  system  impoverished  the  earth.  The  un- 
healthy conditions  due  to  a  southern  country  made 
sanitation  more  difficult.  Science  is  entirely  over- 
coming the  last.  Now  a  big  Women's  College  will 
be  opened  in  a  few  years'  time  at  Souwanee.  So 
even  the  South  is  waking  up.  I  hope  the  head  of 
it  may  be  my  dear  old  friend,  Laura  Drake  Gill. 
What  a  fine,  strong,  robust  physique  she  has,  with 
the  kindest,  naughtiest,  dearest  eyes,  the  prettiest 
little  hands  and  feet ;  all  kindliness  and  charm,  her 
grey  hair  brushed  straight  back  from  her  forehead, 
Miss  Gill  looks  like  the  mother  of  a  large  family  of 
her  own  rather  than  the  foster-mother  of  thousands 
of  college  girls.  She  comes  from  good  old  New 
England  stock,  and  breeding  tells  ;  even  America  is 


84  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

beginning  to  realise  that  rapidly  —  especially  in 
the  arts  and  politics. 

Englishwomen  of  the  upper  classes  do  much 
more  serious  work  than  is  usual  in  America ;  but 
there  are  exceptions ;  for  instance,  a  woman  in 
high  society  in  New  York  suddenly  awakened  to  the 
immense  needs  of  women,  about  the  year  1908. 
She  conceived  the  notion  of  opening  a  large  depot 
where  men  and  women  could  partake  of  a  meal. 
This  lady  was  Mrs.  O.  H.  P.  Belmont,  who  for  four 
years  has  laboured  assiduously  for  her  cause.  The 
Duchess  of  Marlborough  is  her  daughter. 

It  really  is  an  extraordinary  institution,  this  Po- 
litical Equality  Association  in  New  York.  Lunch- 
eons are  served  there  from  11.30  to  2.30,  composed 
of  good  wholesome  food,  cooked  on  the  premises 
by  competent  cooks.  These  lunches  can  be  pro- 
cured from  ten  cents  upwards, -- the  price  of 
getting  a  pair  of  boots  blacked,  —  so  that  even  the 
working  men  and  women  can  afford  the  charge. 
At  first  this  institution  was  run  by  Mrs.  Belmont 
out  of  her  own  pocket.  Much  economy  was  ef- 
fected by  arranging  that  there  should  be  no  attend- 
ance, waiters  or  otherwise.  Every  luncher  buys  a 
ticket  at  the  door  for  whatever  he  requires,  and 
gives  it  in  at  the  little  office ;  in  return  for  it  he 
receives  a  plate  of  the  food  for  which  he  has  paid. 
He  takes  this  on  a  tray  to  a  table,  sits  down  and 


OUR  AMERICAN  SISTERS  85 

enjoys  his  meal,  finally  clearing  up  and  tidying  his 
place  before  returning  his  empty  plates  and  glasses 
to  the  washing-up  department.  This  does  away 
with  the  expense  of  service,  and  also  with  the 
necessity  of  tips. 

From  eight  hundred  to  a  thousand  people  lunch  in 
these  dining-rooms  during  two  hours.  They  have  a 
library,  where  they  can  read  papers  and  magazines, 
tempered  with  a  good  deal  of  suffrage  propaganda, 
and  the  whole  atmosphere  is  that  of  a  friendly  club. 

I  was  amazed.  The  whole  thing  worked  so  well. 
The  people  got  such  good  food.  They  seemed  so 
happy  and  contented.  They  were  so  orderly ; 
they  cleared  up  their  vacated  seats  so  carefully,  all 
of  which  denoted  how  much  they  appreciated  good 
fare  at  a  reasonable  charge. 

The  thing  now  pays,  showing  that  if  a  scheme  of 
this  kind  is  well  organised  and  properly  looked 
after,  even  at  a  cheap  rate,  it  can  be  made  a  finan- 
cial success. 

Mrs.  O.  H.  P.  Belmont  is  one  of  the  richest 
society  women  of  New  York,  and  has  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  homes  in  the  city.  It  is  full  of  art 
treasures  ;  it  is  refined  and  delightful ;  but  every 
morning  at  ten  o'clock  she  turns  her  back  upon 
luxury,  and  motors  down  to  her  dining-rooms, 
where  she  remains  hard  at  work  until  six  or  seven 
at  night.  With  her  are  a  whole  army  of  associates, 
giving  their  time  to  the  propagation  of  political 


86  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

knowledge  and  the  necessity  of  women  having  votes. 
Lectures  are  given  in  the  Assembly  Hall  every 
Monday  evening,  and  everything  is  done  to  further 
"Votes  for  Women"  in  this  excellent  establishment. 

One  state  after  another  is  giving  the  vote  to 
American  women. 

Of  course,  the  women  of  Great  Britain  will  get  the 
vote  ;  that  is  inevitable,  but  it  is  a  discredit  to  our 
statesmen  that  they  should  have  had  to  fight  for  it. 

Other  countries  have  benefited  by  our  loss  of 
dignity,  and  America  among  them.  Women  must 
vote,  just  as  women  now  work. 

All  this  hue  and  cry  about  "women's  work"  is 
ridiculous.  Since  the  world  began  women  have 
worked.  They  have  borne  the  greatest  of  all  bur- 
dens,— child-bearing, — and  they  have  cooked  and 
washed  and  mended  and  made.  Worked  ?  Why, 
of  course,  they  have  worked ;  but  they  have  not 
always  been  paid.  Now  is  their  day.  They  are 
strong  enough  to  demand  the  recognition  the  world 
has  been  ungenerous  enough  to  withhold.  Equal- 
ity in  all  things  for  the  sexes  will  make  happier  men 
and  women,  happier  homes,  and  a  more  prosperous 
nation.  There  is  no  question  of  sex  in  brains. 
Men  who  marry  educated  companions  gain  cooks ; 
but  men  who  marry  uneducated  cooks  never  gain 
companions.  Domesticity  alone,  although  essen- 
tial, palls  badly. 

Surely,  every  woman  should  take  an  intelligent 


OUR  AMERICAN  SISTERS 


88  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

interest  in  the  politics  of  her  country ;  she  should 
educate  herself  in  public  affairs  and  municipal 
government,  so  that  when  the  day  comes  in  which 
she  finds  herself  with  a  vote  of  her  own,  she  may  be 
able  to  use  it  wisely.  This  woman's  movement  is 
one  of  the  great  landmarks  of  civilisation.1 

1  As  a  rough  idea  of  women's  employment  in  London  the  follow- 
ing may  be  of  interest :  — 

THE  LONDON  COUNTY  COUNCIL 

Triennial  election.  Among  other  things  authority  for  —  Edu- 
cation, elementary,  secondary,  and  technical  schools,  also  schools 
for  Deficient,  Crippled,  Blind,  Deaf  and  Dumb  children,  —  Police 
(except  City  of  London)  —  Fire  Brigade  —  Tramways  —  Public 
Parks  and  open  spaces  —  Highways  —  Housing  —  Lodging  Houses 
—  Midwives  —  Licencing  of  Employment  Agencies  and  Places 
of  Amusement  —  Administering  the  Children  Act  —  The  Shop  Act. 

Five  women  serving.  Two  elected  as  councillors.  Three 
coopted  as  aldermen.  On  other  County  Councils  Sixty-two  women. 

March,  1913,  was  the  second  election  since  the  Act  of  1907  which 
made  it  possible  for  women  to  stand.  The  party  system  makes  it 
difficult  for  a  woman  to  secure  adoption  as  a  candidate,  and  there 
are  also  great  difficulties  for  an  Independent  candidature. 

METROPOLITAN  BOROUGH  COUNCILS 

Triennial  elections,  last  election  November,  1912.  Public 
Health  —  Baths  — Wash-houses  —  Swimming  Baths  —  Maintenance 
and  Cleaning  of  Roads  —  Lighting  —  Supervision  of  Common  Lodg- 
ing and  Tenement  Houses,  etc.  Twenty-two  women  serving. 

BOARD  OF  GUARDIANS 

Triennial,  last  election  April,  1913.  Roughly  1323  women  are 
serving,  including  146  women  as  Rural  District  Councillors  who  act 
as  Poor  Law  Guardians  for  the  Union  in  which  their  districts  lie. 
R.D.C.  have  much  the  same  power  as  County  and  Borough  Councils. 
No  Union  in  London  is  without  a  woman  Guardian. 

American  Poor  Law  administration  is  much  the  same  as  England's. 


OUR  AMERICAN  SISTERS  89 

The  United  States  has  gone  so  far  ahead  lately, 
that  it  seems  probable  all  her  women  will  get  the 
vote  before  we  do ;  and  yet  England  started  the 
demand  for  Woman's  Suffrage  fifty  years  ago. 
For  thirty  years  women  have  been  passing  degree 
examinations  at  Oxford  and  Cambridge,  and  yet 
the  actual  degree  —  no  matter  how  high  the 
honours  they  attain  —  is  withheld  from  these 
women.  Is  militancy  not  the  natural  outcome  of 
such  unfairness  to  any  sex  ?  Militancy  will  end  in 
social  anarchy  unless  fair  play  intervenes. 

They  are  right  to  twit  the  Britisher  with  being 
slow  in  this  case.  Some  nations,  like  people,  are 
too  young  to  be  old,  and  others  are  too  old  to  be 
young. 

PARISH  COUNCILS 

Some  seven  thousand  women  are  serving  on  Parish  Councils  — 
about  eight  hundred  on  Urban  District  Councils.  Three  hundred 
and  twenty-four  on  Town  Councils  —  to  say  nothing  of  Lunacy 
Commissions,  etc. 

SALARIED  POSTS 

Ten  women  Inspectors  and  seventy  Assistant  Inspectors  ap- 
pointed by  the  National  Health  Insurance  Commission  for  England. 
Miss  Mona  Wilson,  Health  Commissioner  for  England,  receives 
salary  of  £1000. 

Labour  Exchanges  in  the  United  Kingdom. 

424  Women  officers,  salaries  under  £100. 
87  Women  officers,  salaries  over  £100. 
28  Women  officers,  salaries  £i5O-£3OO. 
i  Chief  Woman  officer,  Head  of  Section,  Salary  some- 
what higher. 


CHAPTER  IV 
DISAPPEARING  HOME  LIFE 

THE  Englishwoman  is  never  afraid  to  say  she 
wants  to  save  money.  She  is  rather  proud  of  it ; 
but  the  American  woman  is  always  frightened  of 
wishing  to  appear  thrifty.  She  would  rather 
spend  two  dollars  on  a  taxi  when  she  comes  out  of 
an  hotel,  if  the  porter  happens  to  ask  her  if  she 
wants  one,  than  boldly  say  "No",  and  walk  to  the 
street-car. 

She  is  an  extravagant  person,  this  American 
woman,  for  she  spends  twice,  if  not  three  times,  as 
much  on  her  dress  as  her  English  sister,  and  she 
certainly  knows  how  to  make  money  fly  in  every 
direction.  Is  this  not  a  little  hard  on  the  poor 
husbands  ?  Many  of  them  have  developed  into 
mere  money-making  machines  to  satisfy  her  whims  ; 
they  are  utterly  unselfish  as  far  as  their  women  folk 
are  concerned.  They  want  their  wives  to  be 
smarter  than  anyone  else,  their  houses  to  be  in  the 
most  fashionable  quarter,  and,  above  all,  their 
parties  to  be  described  in  the  papers.  For  this 
they  are  willing  to  pay.  Off  to  the  office  they  go, 
rushing  for  steamboats  to  cross  from  New  Jersey, 

90 


DISAPPEARING  HOME  LIFE  91 


By  permission  of  the  New  York  Times. 

WHY  THE  PUBLIC  RESTAURANTS  ARE  so  POPULAR 


92  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

tearing  for  tram-cars  to  get  over  Brooklyn  Bridge, 
or  flying  for  the  overhead  or  subway  to  convey 
them  from  Harlem,  in  their  wild  rush  for  Wall 
Street.  They  work  hard  all  day  in  a  pandemo- 
nium, luncheon  is  a  scrappy  entertainment,  after- 
noon tea  for  business  men  is  unknown,  and  they 
arrive  home  for  their  seven  o'clock  dinner  dead  beat 
and  thoroughly  played  out ;  cocktails  —  often 
several  of  them  —  are  therefore  taken  to  pull  them 
together. 

My  heart  often  ached  for  those  poor  dear  hus- 
bands ;  many  of  them  seemed  to  have  so  little  relax- 
ation in  their  strife  for  wealth.  'Tis  a  hard  life,  that 
of  the  well-to-do  American  citizen,  but  he  never 
complains,  and  goes  on,  week  after  week,  with  punc- 
tilious regularity,  raking  in  dollars  for  his  family  to 
spend.  A  man  once  owned  he  looked  upon  his  wife 
as  a  good  advertisement  of  his  prosperity. 

Even  single  men  become  inoculated  with  the 
dire  disease.  They,  too,  make  the  little  green 
paper  dollar  bill  a  veritable  god. 

Millionnaires  are  commonplace,  people  now  talk 
of  billionnaires  and  trillionnaires  —  in  dollars  of 
course  —  and  a  dollar  is  four  shillings  instead  of  a 
golden  pound  sterling  which  represents  five  little 
greenbacks. 

There  is  nothing  better  than  a  cultured  American 
man  —  one  meets  him  often  and  he  shines  out  like 
a  brilliant  gem  in  a  crown  of  paper  dollars. 


DISAPPEARING  HOME  LIFE  93 

An  English  person  is  amazed  at  the  way  Ameri- 
can women  spend  ;  there  is  no  mistake  about  that. 
One  drops  into  the  Ritz-Carlton,  the  Plaza  or  the 
St.  Regis,  the  Holland  House,  the  Waldorf,  Sherry's 
or  Delmonico's,  and  finds  these  good  ladies  lunch- 
ing or  dining  in  twos  or  in  dozens.  It  is  quite 
surprising  to  the  Britisher  to  see  the  way  women  in 
the  States  constantly  lunch  and  dine  together. 
They  order  the  most  recherche  little  repasts ;  they 
seldom  smoke  --  that  is  a  vice,  or  virtue,  pertain- 
ing more  particularly  to  European  shores.  Occa- 
sionally an  American  woman  takes  a  cocktail  be- 
fore dinner,  composed  of  one  or  more  spirits,  in 
which  an  olive  or  a  cherry  reposes ;  but  she  rarely 
orders  wine  or  spirit  at  the  meal  itself.  At  table 
America  appears  a  land  of  teetotalers.  Cocktails 
before  meals  are  unknown  in  England  ;  but  we 
drink  wine  with  our  food. 

This  entertaining  at  public  restaurants  probably 
arises  a  good  deal  from  the  complexity  of  the  ser- 
vant question.  Servants  may  be  a  difficult  prob- 
lem in  England,  but  it  is  nothing  here  compared 
with  the  States.  The  republican  bringing-up  does 
not  encourage  an  American-born  citizen  to  accept 
service  under  anyone ;  therefore  there  are  no  real 
American  servants  at  all,  while  there  are  nearly  a 
hundred  millions  of  people  in  that  vast  country, 
a  large  part  of  whom  require  domestics.  They 
consequently  have  to  put  up  with  the  worst 


94  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

class  of  Irish  servants  —  who  cannot  get  situations 
at  home  and  therefore  try  their  luck  in  the  New 
World  —  foreigners,  or  darkies.  The  last  named 
make  excellent  butlers  and  cooks,  and  seem  born 
for  those  positions.  In  consequence  of  these  domes- 
tic difficulties  the  ladies  themselves  add  house- 
wifely instincts  to  all  their  other  charms.  They  not 
only  know  how  to  run  a  house,  but  are  generally 
able  to  do  the  work  themselves.  Everything  is,  of 
course,  reduced  to  a  minimum  in  the  way  of  la- 
bour ;  electric  light  is  everywhere ;  baths  adjoin 
bedrooms,  obviating  the  necessity  of  carrying 
water.  One  has  the  luxury  of  one's  own  bath- 
room, but  without  the  comfort  of  a  large  bath 
sheet.  A  small  towel  takes  its  place,  and  one  dries 
in  bits.  Basins  with  hot  and  cold  water  laid  on 
are  universal.  So  far  everything  is  done  to  save 
labour  ;  thus  to  add  to  the  complications  the  family 
washing  is  often  done  at  home. 

The  degeneration  of  the  servant  in  America  is  a 
rapid  affair.  A  first-class,  middle-aged,  highly 
respectable  English  housemaid  lately  accompanied 
her  mistress  to  the  States  for  a  short  visit.  By  the 
end  of  three  weeks  this  very  respectable  woman 
objected  to  wearing  caps,  and  talked  of  domestic 
service  as  "slavedom."  Instead  of  the  staid, 
middle-aged,  self-respecting  English  servant  teach- 
ing her  nice  ways  to  those  with  whom  she 
came  in  contact,  they  corrupted  her  to  their  evil 


DISAPPEARING  HOME  LIFE  95 

manners.  "Madam"  became  "m'm,"  when  ad- 
dressing her  mistress,  and  then  ceased  altogether, 
and  by  the  end  of  a  few  weeks  she  had  entirely  for- 
gotten her  own  place  and  was  quite  incapable  of 
filling  any  other.  British  servants  are  far  better 
off  on  Britain's  shores,  where  home-life  upstairs 
and  home-life  downstairs  still  remain,  and  good 
servants  keep  good  places. 

When  one  learns  that  nearly  a  million  immigrants 
enter  the  United  States  each  year,  that  every  sort 
and  kind  of  man  and  woman  and  child,  representing 
every  country  and  every  creed,  land  upon  America's 
shores,  and  that  the  bulk  of  these  people  have  gone 
into  trade  or  service,  one  realises  the  heterogeneous 
jumble  of  humanity  working  for  wages,  in  the  lower 
positions  of  life,  on  that  vast  continent.  There  are 
agents  for  Swedes,  Italians,  Germans,  or  Irish,  and 
as  most  ladies,  in  organising  their  households,  try  to 
have  servants  of  the  same  nationality,  each  dame 
applies  to  the  particular  form  of  agency  supplying 
her  wants.  Nationalities  are  clannish  and  appear 
to  work  better  together.  The  writer  lunched  in  a 
house  in  New  York  where  all  the  servants  were 
Japanese,  and  a  few  days  before  had  dined  in  one 
where  the  domestics  were  all  Finlanders ;  but  the 
richest  homes  all  employ  Britishers. 

All  these  nationalities  entering  the  States  have 
combined  to  make  a  large  socialistic  party,  and 
to-day  Chicago  is  literally  riddled  with  socialism 


96  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

among  the  lower  classes,  while  Christian  Science 
prevails  among  the  upper ;  and  Zion  City  is 
near  by. 

Think  of  the  raw  material  imported.  Most  of 
these  immigrants  are  not  even  able  to  speak  the  lan- 
guage of  their  adopted  country  ;  frequently  utterly 
incapable  of  filling  the  roles  they  have  taken  upon 
themselves.  For  instance,  a  woman  will  hire  her- 
self out  as  a  cook  at  high  wages,  and  when  she  gets 
into  her  new  home,  prove  herself  incapable  of  grill- 
ing a  chop.  Thereupon  her  poor  mistress  has  to 
teach  her.  As  soon  as  she  has  learnt  a  little  and 
becomes  useful  she  demands  more  wages,  or  de- 
parts. It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  the  upper- 
class  women  of  America  are  often  in  despair,  and 
that  they  are  seeking  peace  and  comfort  more  and 
more  in  the  life  of  hotels.  Even  those  who  do  not 
live  entirely  at  these  public  caravansaries  lunch  out 
and  dine  out  every  possible  occasion,  to  get  away 
from  the  wearying  details  of  home  domesticity. 
The  end  of  this  threatens  to  be  the  disappearance 
of  home-life  in  America. 

Yes,  the  servant  question  is  a  serious  problem, 
but  America  has  only  herself  to  blame. 

As  soon  as  this  raw  material  is  landed  upon  her 
shores,  the  children  are  sent  off  to  public  schools 
(equivalent  to  our  County  Council  schools)  and  are 
there  taught  to  be  everything  under  the  sun  except 
servants,  with  the  result  that  while  the  population 


DISAPPEARING  HOME  LIFE 


97 


By  permission  of  the  New  York  Times. 

SERVANTS  MAY   BE  A  DIFFICULT   PROBLEM   IN  ENGLAND,   BUT  NOTHING 
COMPARED  WITH  AMERICA 


98  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

is  increasing  yearly  by  enormous  figures,  the  do- 
mestic class  is  as  speedily  decreasing  in  proportion. 
The  seriousness  of  this  lack  of  technical  education 
does  not  yet  appear  to  have  been  noticed,  or  they 
would  not  go  on  educating  the  children  so  far 
above  the  position  they  are  really  called  upon  to 
fill. 

Domestics  without  references  seem  quaint  to  a 
British  mind.  We  seriously  consider  a  servant's 
qualities  and  capabilities  and  enquire  into  her 
character  before  we  take  her  into  the  bosom  of  the 
family,  and  then  she  becomes  one  of  us.  Years  of 
service  speak  well  for  mistress  and  maid.  Both 
are  proud  of  it.  Domestic  service  is  a  fine  and 
honourable  profession,  and  one  to  be  proud  of. 
In  America  it  appears  to  be  a  haphazard  affair : 
—  no  references  ;  no  claims  ;  no  obedience  ;  no 
consideration.  The  American  citizen  professes  to 
have  no  belief  or  sense  of  responsibility.  He  is 
no  happier,  far  from  it.  He  walks  off  ;  drops  into  a 
new  job,  thinks  he  would  like  a  change  and  just 
walks  off  again.  Or,  he  may  be  enticed  away. 
Servant-stealing  appears  to  be  quite  an  open  game, 
and  one  friend  allures  another  friend's  domestic 
unblushingly  away.  Again  the  Britisher  wonders. 

Why  they  put  up  with  all  this  lack  of  comfort  is 
incomprehensible. 

Schools  for  domestic  education  have  become  a 
necessity,  not  only  in  the  States  ;  but  in  every  land. 


DISAPPEARING  HOME  LIFE 


99 


It  is  quite  time  women  all  over  the  world  took 
the  reins  of  education  into  their  own  hands,  and 
educated  boys  and  girls  to  fill  the  posts  waiting 
for  them,  instead  of  teaching  them  subjects  that 
are  mere  drugs  in  the  wage-earning  market. 
Women  must  handle  education  practically ;  teach 
plumbing  and  carpentering,  cooking  and  washing, 
and  stop  men's  long-drawn-out  theoretical  mud- 
dling. Woman  is  an  economic  force  in  life  to-day. 

If  men  —  and  up  to  now  it  is  men  who  have  done 
this  kind  of  thing  —  do  not  legislate  for  the  better 
practical  education  of  cooks,  housemaids,  nurses, 
and  gardeners,  women  will  have  to  cease  bearing 
so  many  children.  No  woman  (outside  the  work- 
man's wife  who  has  no  position  to  keep  up)  can  be 
a  wife,  a  mother,  a  housekeeper,  and  her  own 
"helps,"  all  at  the  same  time.  Something  or 
somebody  must  suffer. 

Why  are  servants  called  Helps?  Everyone  is  a 
help  to  someone.  A  governor  has  his  aide-de-camp, 
a  business  man  his  clerk,  a  writer  his  secretary,  and 
so  on.  All  are  helps  with  a  definite  designation. 
Why  should  a  house-help  not  be  a  servant  ?  They 
who  dig  must  call  a  spade  a  "spade". 

Home-life,  as  we  Europeans  know  it,  seems  to  be 
rapidly  disappearing  from  the  large  American 
cities.  Yet  home-life  is  the  axle  of  the  wheel  of 
existence,  and  without  it  love,  duty,  veneration, 
sentiment,  and  all  filial  ties  vanish. 


ioo  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

Not  only  among  the  lower  orders,  but  in  the 
middle  and  upper  class  homes  of  America,  the  wives 
have  practically  to  work  their  homes  themselves. 
Why? 

Because  the  servants  are  so  bad,  the  mistresses 
often  have  literally  to  take  their  place.  In  the 
same  class  of  establishment  in  England  excellent 
servants  bring  happiness  and  home  comfort,  and  are 
merely  directed  by  an  able  mistress.  In  America  it 
is  different.  Direction  is  not  sufficient.  The  ser- 
vant is  incapable,  and  the  mistress  herself  has 
constantly  to  turn  her  hand  to  household  duties. 
She  must  know  how  to  cook  a  dinner,  how  to  make 
everything,  down  to  the  minutest  detail ;  then  she 
flies  upstairs  hot  and  tired,  to  wash  and  change, 
and  smilingly  takes  the  head  of  the  table,  and  sits 
complacently  conversing  with  her  husband  or  her 
guests  while  the  meal  is  being  enjoyed.  She  must 
sweep  and  dust  a  room,  wash  the  children,  make 
the  beds,  truss  a  fowl,  and  yet  appear  cheerfully  at 
luncheon  as  if  she  had  not  been  employed  like  a 
charwoman  all  the  forenoon.  It  is  wonderful  how 
splendidly  she  does  it  all,  how  hard  she  works  and 
yet  how  happy  she  looks.  The  wives  of  Brother 
Jonathan  are  marvels  in  many  ways,  especially 
among  the  middle  classes,  whose  purses  will  not 
let  them  employ  first-class  domestics. 

American  servants  are  dear  and  bad.  Although 
they  are  paid  far  higher  wages  than  in  Europe,  they 


DISAPPEARING  HOME  LIFE  101 

are  not  one  iota  better  off,  for  everything  costs  so 
much  more  than  in  the  old  countries  that  in  the  end 
they  probably  save  less  than  a  good  European  ser- 
vant, who  does  not  change  her  situation  every 
month ;  for  such  a  servant  becomes  at  last  one  of 
the  family,  and  is  comfortably  provided  for  by  her 
employers  in  her  old  age. 

Home-life  is  impossible  when  such  revolution 
reigns  in  the  kitchen  as  is  often  to  be  found  in  the 
States.  How  is  the  wife  to  smile  upon  her  husband 
when  he  comes  back  to  dinner,  if  she  has  been  little 
better  than  a  charwoman  and  nurse  all  day  ?  How 
is  the  tired  mother  to  give  the  children  that  happy 
hour  from  tea  to  their  bedtime,  which  all  English 
children  love,  if  that  mother  is  worn  out  with  work 
and  worry  ?  Why,  it  becomes  well-nigh  hopeless. 
Gradually  these  bad  servants  are  destroying  the 
life  of  the  homes,  and  hotel  existence  —  for  as  a 
permanency  it  becomes  mere  existence  —  is  taking 
its  place.  In  hotels  the  staff  work  in  relays,  which 
is  an  impossible  arrangement  with  the  purse  of  an 
ordinary  household. 

Domestic  troubles  would  drive  me  wild.  How 
these  clever,  capable  American  women  can  put 
up  with  the  inferiority,  rudeness, — which  is 
termed  independence,  —  and  want  of  consider- 
ation for  their  employers,  is  indeed  surprising. 
Surely  it  is  time  that  technical  and  domestic 
schools  should  be  organised  by  women,  to  teach 


102  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

the  young  American  —  aye,  and  European  too 
—  some  of  the  necessary  trades  for  the  welfare  of 
the  community  and,  at  the  same  time,  manners. 

Manners  !  I  chanced  to  call  at  Government 
House  in  Ottawa  to  inscribe  my  name  in  the  book. 
Apparently  a  messenger  boy  had  been  ordered  ; 
and  a  red-coated  individual  with  black  whiskers 
and  a  friendly  smile,  the  orderly  on  duty,  hailed 
the  boy  in  this  wise  :  — 

"Come  along,  my  boy;   here  are  the  parcels." 

The  boy  proceeded  along  the  passage. 

"Now  then,  now  then,"  said  the  orderly,  "come 
along,  my  boy ;  take  off  your  hat ;  you  must  al- 
ways take  off  your  hat  when  you  come  into  a  house. 
It  is  just  a  form  of  respect ;  it  costs  nothing  to  be 
respectful,  does  it  ?" 

:  Thereupon  he  proceeded  to  give  the  youth  the 
parcels.  Here  was  a  tactful  touch.  That  orderly 
had  been  in  the  service  of  gentlefolk  for  years  ;  he 
knew  what  was  right,  and  he  was  wise  enough  not  to 
say  to  the  boy,  "Take  off  your  hat  because  this  is 
Government  House,"  but  "Take  off  your  hat  be- 
cause it  is  expected  of  you  on  entering  any  house." 
If  a  little  of  that  element  of  politeness  were  intro- 
duced into  America,  how  much  happier  the  Ameri- 
cans would  be  as  a  whole  and  how  much  more  con- 
tented as  a  nation.  Good  manners  cost  nothing 
and  are  a  valuable  asset.  They  gently  soften 
the  crude  jerks  of  life. 


DISAPPEARING  HOME  LIFE  103 

With  few  exceptions,  American  families  have  al- 
ways lacked  those  cheery  evenings  spent  round  the 
open  fireplaces  so  general  in  England,  because  open 
fireplaces  seldom  exist,  and  sitting  facing  a  steam- 
heater  may  be  warm,  but  it  is  not  conducive 
to  pleasant  chat ;  so  those  delightfully  convivial 
hours  round  the  family  hearths  of  Britain  are  not 
so  well  known  on  the  Western  continent,  where 
only  the  rich  have  open  fires. 

There  is  a  spirit  of  unrest  in  the  States  that  is 
discomforting.  Everyone  wishes  to  be  something 
he  is  not,  and  consequently  it  is  a  life  of  constant 
change ;  not  only  change  of  servants,  but  change 
of  environment,  and  change  of  association,  which 
again  tends  to  shatter  home-life. 

Speaking  roughly,  the  ideal  home-life  of  Eng- 
land is  for  the  husband  and  wife  to  spend  their 
evening  together  ;  they  read  and  they  talk.  Two 
or  three  nights  a  week  they  will  be  at  home  with 
their  children  alone ;  the  remaining  days  they 
will  be  either  dining  with  their  friends,  or  their 
friends  dining  with  them.  But  this  is  not  always 
so  in  America,  where  the  men  do  not  care  to  go  out 
in  the  evenings  at  all,  and  consequently  the  women, 
not  content  to  sit  at  home  night  after  night,  go  out 
by  themselves.  There  is  a  great  deal  more  of  that 
sort  of  thing  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic  than 
here,  although  the  fashion  is  rapidly  creeping  on  us. 

In  the  States  the  women  have  learned  to  amuse 


104  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

themselves.  We  should  do  this  more,  they  should 
do  it  less. 

American  women  are  delightfully  entertaining ; 
they  talk  all  the  time  about  their  interests,  their 
families,  their  homes,  their  aspirations  —  so  all  one 
has  to  do  is  to  listen. 

The  art  of  listening  graciously  is  a  gift. 

These  husbands  and  wives  are  the  best  of  friends  ; 
it  is  simply  a  tacit  understanding  between  them  that 
the  man  should  make  the  money,  and  the  woman 
spend  it.  In  fact  the  generosity  of  the  American 
man  to  the  American  woman  is  simply  delightful. 

But  home-life,  where  is  it  ?  The  poor  man  who 
pays  so  heavily  for  everything  cannot  even  get  his 
boots  blacked  at  home,  and  he  has  to  go  into  the 
streets  to  the  nearest  "  shine"  for  the  purpose.  At 
the  street  corners  of  every  town  are  high  strange- 
looking  chairs  under  an  awning,  and  there  the  men, 
aye,  and  women,  too,  sit  solemnly  with  a  foot  re- 
posing on  each  leg-rest  placed  there  for  the  pur- 
pose, and  while  they  read  their  morning  papers,  a 
darky  browns  boots  for  fivepence,  or  blacks  them 
for  twopence  halfpenny.  Even  in  hotels  it  is 
difficult  to  get  boots  cleaned,  and  they  have  to  be 
put  on  dirty  and  worn  by  their  owner  down  to  the 
boot  room,  where,  in  the  larger  hotels,  they  are  now 
kind  enough  to  have  a  separate  department  for 
ladies. 

'Tis  the  land  of  luxury,  but  not  of  comfort. 


DISAPPEARING  HOME  LIFE  105 

Those  little  comforts,  which  to  us  in  England 
are  the  necessities  of  life,  are  not  to  be  found  in 
America.  Why  ?  Because  there  are  few  people  to 
render  service.  Where  we  run  a  house  on  four 
servants,  the  American  runs  it  on  two.  Those 
two  are  better  paid,  —  everything  costs  double,  — 
and  they  have  to  do  double  the  work.  So  they 
have  not  time  to  call  their  master  and  mistress  in 
the  morning,  to  take  them  a  cup  of  tea,  to  brush 
their  clothes,  hand  the  letters  on  a  salver,  draw  up 
the  blinds,  or  fold  the  towels  and  prepare  the 
bath. 

Alas,  the  home-life  of  America  seems  in  a  some- 
what perilous  condition.  The  married  women  have 
learnt  to  lunch  and  dine  out  in  bunches,  as  bachelor 
men  do  in  London,  where  the  male  sex  now  desert 
their  Clubs  for  fashionable  restaurants,  just  as 
American  wives  desert  their  homes  for  their  Clubs. 

The  very  independence  of  America  militates 
against  home-life.  Many  fathers  and  grandfathers 
have  left  home  and  country  to  cross  the  ocean,  and 
the  boys  and  girls  are  brought  up  to  be  self-reliant 
and  independent.  Such  being  the  case,  the  pro- 
found respect  of  a  son  towards  his  mother  is 
delightful,  but  beyond  that,  filial  love  is  seldom 
seen  or  expected. 

There  are,  of  course,  many  charming  and  delight- 
ful homes  in  America,  homes  full  of  love  and  re- 
finement ;  nevertheless  the  strain  on  the  house- 


106  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

wives  is  so  great  that  visitors  can  but  sympathise 
with  them,  and  cease  to  wonder  they  give  in  some- 
times, in  despair,  and  take  refuge  in  nerves  and 
rest-cures,  followed  by  life  in  boarding-houses, 
apartment  houses  (flats),  and  hotels. 

Americans  can  work  hard  and  play  vigorously, 
but  the  hour  of  folded  hands  and  quiet  thought  is 
an  unknown  luxury  in  their  luxurious  land. 

A  strenuous  life  lived  too  strenuously  is  like  an 
over-wound  watch  —  it  snaps. 


CHAPTER  V 
CLUBLAND  AND  CHATTER 

IF  I  were  a  young  man,  I  should  marry  an  Ameri- 
can girl ;  among  them  are  some  of  the  best-looking 
women  in  the  world.  There  is  no  denying  the  fact 
that  American  women  are  perfectly  charming. 
They  are  bright,  clever,  smart,  and  cheery. 

We  see  the  best  and  the  worst  of  them  in  Eng- 
land. The  best  are  those  who  come  with  good 
introductions  and  are  immediately  received  into 
London  society ;  they  are  so  unobtrusive,  they  do 
not  assert  themselves  unnecessarily ;  the  worst 
are  those  whose  "poppas"  have  made  a  pile  in 
"God's  own  country,"  as  they  call  it,  and,  being 
practically  uneducated  themselves,  wish  their  wives 
and  daughters  to  be  quite  up  to  date,  and  pack 
them  off  to  "Eu-rope"  with  some  thousands  of 
dollars  in  their  pockets  to  improve  their  manners 
and  their  minds. 

We  tumble  across  this  latter  class  of  Americans 
all  over  Europe.  The  woman  talks  loud  in  a  high- 
pitched  key  ;  she  "guesses"  all  along  the  line;  she 
pays  twice  as  much  as  she  ought  for  everything 
because  she  thinks  it  is  aristocratic  to  do  so,  little 
knowing  how  poor  true  aristocrats  usually  are.  Her 

107 


108  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

children,  whom  she  generally  has  in  tow,  are  one 
degree  worse  than  herself.  Those  children  are 
what  one  kindly  terms  "precocious".  They  take 
late  dinners,  accompany  their  elders  to  theatres, 
and  do  their  best  to  wear  out  their  juvenile  minds 
and  bodies.  These  are  the  Yankees  to  be  avoided, 
the  kind  of  people  one  does  not  associate  with  or 
even  see  in  American  society. 

The  woman  one  meets  in  the  United  States  is  a 
very  different  person ;  of  medium  height,  good 
figure,  and  well  built,  she  dresses  to  perfection, 
according  to  the  latest  fashions.  She  knows  how  to 
put  on  her  clothes  and  has  achieved  the  highest 
point  of  neatness  combined  with  practicability  in 
street  wear ;  an  untidy  American  woman  is  a 
rarity,  she  is  generally  dapper  and  well-groomed. 
Her  best  gowns  come  from  Paris  —  she  willingly 
pays  sixty  per  cent  duty  and  their  carriage  —  but 
her  tailor-mades  are  built  on  her  side  of  the  herring- 
pond  ;  for  there  are  no  better  tailors  anywhere  than 
can  be  found  in  the  States.  She  is  a  fine  make  of 
woman,  and  her  cloth  gowns  suit  her ;  it  is  the 
style  of  garment  she  generally  dons,  and  the  only 
practical  kind  for  everyday  use  in  a  land  where 
life  is  spent  in  and  out  of  tram-cars,  subways,  or 
elevated  railways.  She  wears  the  daintiest  blouses, 
all  fluffy  and  soft  and  diaphanous,  and  a  luncheon 
at  a  smart  restaurant  is  a  veritable  dream  in 
blouse-land. 


CLUBLAND  AND  CHATTER 


109 


By  permission  of  the  New  York  Times. 

MEN   SO   FAR   HAVE  HAD  MORE   CHANCES 


1 10  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

In  muddy  weather  she  is  practical,  and  has  her 
skirt  cut  several  inches  off  the  ground,  no  pretence 
at  a  short  skirt,  but  the  real  thing,  short  enough  to 
clear  her  shoes  or  her  boots. 

Women  might  be  divided  into  classes  almost  all 
the  world  over :  those  who  are  born  smart  and 
those  who  are  born  good.  Goodness  is  often 
merely  negative,  and  sometimes  dowdy.  Unfor- 
tunately, these  virtues  do  not  amalgamate  as  often 
as  they  might  for  the  benefit  of  the  world.  In 
society  in  Europe,  there  are  practically  three 
classes,  those  who  buy  a  reputation,  those  who 
make  one,  and  those  who  inherit  one.  Each  de- 
spises the  other. 

Now,  in  America,  there  are  but  two  classes  of 
society,  those  who  buy  their  way  in,  and  those  who 
get  there  by  their  brains ;  the  numbers  are  about 
equally  divided.  The  millionnaires  are  the  leaders 
in  American  society  as  the  nobility  are  in  Europe. 
The  one  governs  by  wealth ;  the  other  rules  by 
inheritance. 

Monied  mediocrity  is  buying  up  the  aristocratic 
poverty  of  Great  Britain's  country  homes.  In  the 
States,  money  is  building  palaces  and  importing 
whole  houses  and  rooms  from  Europe. 

Cultured  intellect  moves  the  world  more  wisely 
than  dollars.  One  of  the  greatest  factors  in 
America  to-day  is  undoubtedly  the  "Woman's 
Club."  In  every  town,  great  or  small,  there  is  a 


CLUBLAND  AND  CHATTER  in 

club  for  women.  In  some  there  are  dozens.  And 
very  serious  places  these  Clubs  are.  They  are 
a  valuable  asset  in  the  life  of  the  nation.  The 
magnificent  Athletic  Clubs  are  doing  fine  work. 

There  seems  a  little  uncertainty  in  Canada  and 
the  States  as  to  what  a  club  really  is.  To  my 
English  mind  a  club  is  an  establishment  wherein 
there  are  members  who  can  have  a  bedroom  for 
a  few  nights,  can  lunch,  dine  or  tea,  write  or 
rest,  read  the  newspapers,  and  meet  their  friends. 
Such,  I  believe,  is  the  usual  notion  of  a  club,  but 
across  the  Atlantic  this  does  not  seem  to  be  the 
case. 

A  body  of  people  who  meet  once  a  week  or  once  a 
month,  either  to  lunch  or  hear  a  lecture,  call  them- 
selves a  Club,  although  they  have  no  club-house 
whatever,  and  are  really  an  association,  a  society  or 
a  debating  body.  The  word  "club"  in  this  case  is 
therefore  a  misnomer.  When  one  is  invited  to  be 
the  guest  of  a  club,  a  Britisher  naturally  imagines 
that  she  is  expected  either  to  lunch  or  tea  with  a 
certain  number  of  women  in  their  own  club-house  ; 
there  may  be  only  half  a  dozen,  or  several  hun- 
dred, but  she  presupposes  that  the  hospitality 
is  graciously  vouchsafed  by  the  members  to  be 
courteous  to  the  stranger  from  over  the  seas. 

Such,  however,  is  not  always  the  case,  and  hav- 
ing accepted  this  invitation  in  her  innocence  of 
heart,  much  appreciating  the  kindly  feeling  of  her 


112  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

American  sisters,  the  would-be  guest  suddenly 
finds  herself  expected  to  give  a  lecture,  at  the  end 
of  which  time  she  may,  or  may  not,  be  refreshed 
by  a  cup  of  tea.  It  is  in  no  wise  a  social  entertain- 
ment ;  it  is  not  intended  for  the  exchange  of  ideas, 
or  making  of  friendships ;  it  is  understood  by  the 
members  that  the  so-called  "club"  is  conferring  a 
great  honour  on  the  traveller  in  inviting  her  to 
address  them  for  an  hour  on  some  subject  in  which 
they  themselves  are  likely  to  be  interested.  So 
the  so-called  club  does  not  wish  to  entertain  the 
stranger ;  but  expects  the  stranger  to  entertain  its 
members. 

In  Canada  it  is  even  worse.  To  the  best  of  my 
recollection,  at  the  dawn  of  this  century,  there  was 
not  a  single  woman's  club  in  Canada.  To-day 
there  appears  to  be  a  Canadian  "  Woman's  Club  "  in 
every  town  of  any  size  in  the  Dominion.  The  Club 
seldom  has  a  club-house ;  it  invites  the  stranger 
to  be  its  guest,  and  then  writes  "to  enquire  on 
what  subject  her  address  will  be,  and  how  long  it 
will  take  ?  " —  not  previously  having  informed  the 
unlucky  visitor  who  has  accepted  the  invitation, 
that  it  is  in  no  wise  a  social  function  for  her 
pleasure  and  interest  in  meeting  Canadian  women, 
but  a  request  for  a  lecture. 

Of  course  I  may  be  perfectly  wrong,  and  the 
Canadian  and  American  women  may  be  perfectly 
right.  They  may  be  conferring  a  great,  an  im- 


CLUBLAND  AND  CHATTER      113 

mense,  honour  on  the  stranger  in  their  midst ; 
only  from  my  point  of  view,  the  stranger,  who  goes 
to  the  enormous  expense  of  travelling  and  gives  the 
vast  amount  of  time  and  energy  necessary  for  the 
same,  does  not  undertake  these  journeys  with  the 
idea  of  lecturing  and  giving  forth  her  own  opinions, 
but  with  the  desire  to  assimilate  and  gather  some 
information  and  knowledge  by  the  way,  for  herself. 

We  cross  the  ocean  to  learn,  and  not  to  teach ; 
otherwise  we  should  stop  at  home. 

Personally,  I  dislike  lecturing.  Major  Pond 
twice  made  me  large  offers  to  address  audiences  on 
the  American  continent.  Even  his  tempting  offers 
had  to  be  politely  declined.  When  two  or  three 
thousand  work-people  can  be  entertained  for  an 
hour  by  my  travelling  experiences,  it  is  always  a 
pleasure  to  be  at  their  service.  Otherwise,  the 
writer  has  other  means  of  expression,  and  fails  to 
see  why  the  women  of  the  American  continent 
should  imagine  that  because  a  person  scribbles, 
she  must  also  lecture.  A  pianist  is  not  necessarily 
a  vocalist,  nor  a  vocalist  a  violinist.  Why  there- 
fore should  either  be  persistently  "invited "to 
address  audiences.  Surely  it  is  unfair  if  an  artist 
gives  pleasure  by  his  pictures  to  turn  him  down 
because  he  is  not  a  musician ;  if  a  musician  gives 
pleasure  by  his  music,  to  upbraid  him  because  he 
prefers  not  to  be  exploited  by  speech. 

All  workers  at  the  arts  are  sensitive ;  were  they 


114  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

not  so,  they  could  not  assimilate  impressions  nor 
express  them.  Each  artist  chooses  the  outlet  he 
prefers. 

Invite  the  stranger,  give  him  the  opportunity  of 
meeting  workers  in  every  and  any  line,  tell  them 
who  he  is,  or  what  he  is,  and  what  he  has  done,  if 
you  will ;  but  remember  if  he  has  travelled  far  to 
meet  people,  to  learn  something  of  your  wondrous 
land  and  your  great  work,  it  is  unfair  to  ask  him  to 
exploit  himself  for  your  amusement.  If  he  is  a 
lecturer  by  profession,  then  he  expects  to  be  paid 
and  has  just  as  much  right  to  be  paid  for  his  time 
as  an  author  has  for  his  book. 

Many  of  the  women's  clubs  are  doing  most  ex- 
cellent work  of  all  kinds,  really  serious  solid  work ; 
but  just  as  many  are  encouraging  small-talk.  This 
lecture  habit  has  become  a  disease  like  the  measles. 
In  Clubland,  both  among  men  and  women,  there 
is  too  much  chatter.  But  it  is  just  as  difficult  to 
know  when  to  stop,  as  how  to  begin  talking. 

Personally  I  am  deeply  indebted  to  many  clubs 
for  their  hospitality,  among  them  The  National 
Arts  Club  in  New  York,  The  Pen  and  Brush  Club, 
Women's  Graduate  Club  of  Columbia  University, 
The  College  Club  of  Boston,  the  Fortnightly,  and 
Woman's  Clubs  of  Chicago,  and  their  lovely 
Athletic  Club. 

Lectures  are  excellent  things.  Nothing  could 
be  better  than  for  the  women  of  a  certain  debating 


CLUBLAND  AND  CHATTER      115 

society  (we  will  not  call  it  club,  that  is  a  mis- 
nomer) to  prepare  a  certain  lecture  for  a  certain 
day.  It  encourages  the  members  to  get  up  par- 
ticular subjects  on  Art,  Science,  Religion,  Educa- 
tion, —  anything  they  like,  —  and  having  accumu- 
lated this  knowledge,  they  have  an  opportunity  of 
handing  it  on  to  their  sisters ;  of  giving  them,  in 
fact,  education  and  information  in  globule  form, 
without  the  trouble  to  assimilate  the  facts  individ- 
ually for  themselves.  Nothing  could  be  better 
when  it  is  well  done. 

Lectures  properly  and  conscientiously  prepared 
yield  useful  information,  but  half  of  this  im- 
promptu, fluffy,  fluttering  speaking  is  often  mere 
piffle.  It  is  worse ;  it  stops  women  reading  for 
themselves  and  encourages  them  to  trust  to  ac- 
quiring knowledge  in  a  superficial  way. 

America  loves  education  in  globules.  If  the 
globules  were  only  concentrated  essence  of  good 
stuff,  nothing  could  be  better,  provided  the  mind 
of  the  recipient  could  absorb  so  much  good  stuff 
rapidly ;  but,  alas,  many  of  the  globules  are  not 
reliable.  It  is  well  they  are  homeopathic  in  size  as 
they  are  not  always  concentration  of  fact,  but  often 
slippery  conclusion,  founded  on  ill-digested  in- 
accuracy. 

Culture  beyond  capacity  is  dangerous.  Culture 
can  ruin  individuality.  Many  American  women 
want  to  assimilate  facts  and  figures,  until  their 


n6  AMERICA  AS   I   SAW  IT 

brain  becomes  encyclopaedic   instead  of  imagina- 
tive. 

Culture  can  be  overdone,  like  beefsteak,  and 
then  it  is  equally  indigestible. 

Yes,  those  American  women  are  wonderful 
speakers.  There  may  be  finer  speakers  in  England, 
because  there  are  far  fewer  of  them,  and  those  who 
speak  do  so  because  they  are  head  and  shoulders 
above  the  others ;  but  in  America  every  woman 
seems  to  have  the  gift  of  public  speaking. 

Once  there  was  a  club-lunch  of  about  thirty 
covers,  given  in  a  real  club-house,  to  a  woman. 

It  was  a  delightful  luncheon.  The  President 
stood  up,  rapped  on  the  table,  and  made  a  pretty 
little  speech  of  welcome  to  her  guest,  and  then  re- 
ferred to  the  great  work  being  done  by  the  Club 
itself.  Before  sitting  down,  she  called  on  a  lady 
to  say  something. 

She  did  so  ;  prettily,  gracefully,  charmingly. 

Then  the  President  called  on  another  lady. 

She  responded  ;  prettily,  gracefully,  charmingly. 

Then  the  President  called  on  a  third  lady  to  rise. 

She  did  ;   she  smiled,  she  spoke. 

Then  the  President  nodded  to  a  fourth  dame. 

Up  she  rose  —  more  pretty  platitudes  and  a 
repetition  of  compliments  for  every  one,  and  down 
she  sat. 


CLUBLAND  AND  CHATTER 


117 


Ii8  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

Twenty  women  out  of  the  thirty  made  speeches. 
The  guest  was  thunderstruck.  To  say  one  cannot 
speak  is  as  awful  a  crime  as  to  own  one  has  not  been 
to  Boston.  American  women  are  extraordinarily 
glib  and  apt,  and  seem  ever  ready  to  rise  to  their 
feet. 

Speeches  are  generally  too  low  and  too  long  all 
the  world  over ;  these  were  neither,  —  the  voices 
were  high  and  clear,  the  duration  of  each  perhaps  a 
couple  of  minutes. 

We  never  know  how  much  we  are  appreciated 
until  we  hear  ourselves  toasted,  or  know  how  brill- 
iant we  are  until  we  read  our  own  obituary  notices. 
The  clubwomen  of  America  are  ahead  of  us  in 
England.  They  learn  their  virtues  and  glorification 
from  one  another.  It  is  all  very  pretty,  very 
charming,  very  friendly-- but,  then,  women  are 
charming  to  one  another,  more  especially  in  the 
States,  where  the  men  are  so  seldom  seen  that  the 
stranger  often  wonders  where  they  are  hidden. 

People  read  a  book  for  pleasure,  too  often  they 
only  listen  to  a  speech  to  criticise.  Poetry  pleases  ; 
history  instructs  ;  and  oratory  persuades  —  or 
ought  to  do  so. 

Trusts,  corrupt  politics,  and  women's  speeches 
are  a  menace.  The  first  tend  to  commercial  ruin, 
the  second  to  international  distrust,  the  third  to  the 
appropriation  of  time. 

Trusts  are  socialism  in  the  hands  of  the  monied 


CLUBLAND  AND  CHATTER      119 

class,  to  whit  —  the  money  trust  alias  socialism 
among  the  rich. 

One  of  the  greatest  innovations  in  American  life 
in  the  last  thirteen  years  is  the  Country  Club. 
There  was  barely  such  a  thing  in  1900,  the  nearest 
approach,  I  remember,  was  the  delightful  Hunting 
Club  near  Montreal. 

Men  went  on  working  because  they  had  a  disease 
which  might  be  termed  the  "working  habit."  It 
is  just  as  bad  a  habit  as  any  other  habit.  It  be- 
comes a  vice,  just  as  drink  in  excess  is  a  vice  ;  and 
this  working  habit  was  also  like  drink,  it  intoxi- 
cated, it  lost  its  judgment,  it  ended  in  nervous 
breakdown,  just  as  excessive  drink  ends  in  delirium 
tremens.  These  men  thought  themselves  very 
clever,  talked  loud  and  large  about  having  no  time 
for  recreation,  no  time  for  anything  but  work ; 
cried  "hustle"  till  one  was  sick;  "strenuous  life" 
till  one  felt  tired  and  pitied  them.  They  were 
work-drunk.  Of  course,  they  had  time  for  golf — 
of  course,  they  had  time  for  tea  with  their  friends, 
and  the  tea  was  far,  far  better  for  them  than  those 
endless  cocktails  which  speeded  on  their  break- 
down. America  spent  so  much  time  talking  of 
what  it  was  doing  that  it  expended  its  energy  that 
way  instead  of  accomplishing  ;  for  after  all,  in  pro- 
portion, it  did  no  more  than  other  lands  ;  it  got  no 
further  than  other  countries,  only  it  was  larger. 


120 


AMERICA  /&  I   SAW  IT 


We  can  all  find  time  to  do  what  we  want. 

"Haven't  time"  is  the  weakest  excuse  for  want 
of  inclination  ever  offered.  Well,  the  men  have 
found  time.  Country  Clubs  are  the  result,  and 
better  work  with  less  talk  is  the  gain. 

Lovely  Clubs  some  of  them  are,  too  —  Lake 
Forest  and  others  nearer  Chicago ;  Chevy  Chase, 
near  Washington ;  Piping  Rock,  Meadow  Brook, 
Ardsley,  Apawamis,  near  New  York ;  or  Mont- 
clair,  in  New  Jersey. 

Here  men  and  women  meet  on  Saturdays  and 
Sundays.  Women  teach  men  not  to  be  bears,  and 
men  teach  women  not  to  be  petty.  Each  helps 
the  other.  They  play  golf  and  tennis  together, 
lunch,  tea,  and  dine  together,  and  spend  a  few 
hours  in  fresh  air  and  healthful  surroundings. 

Country  Clubs  are  the  salvation  of  America's 
men. 

One  of  the  prettiest  things  in  America  is  the  way 
women  send  one  another  flowers. 

Flowers  are  given  for  everything  but  divorce. 

They  are  sent  as  an  offering  of  friendship,  they 
are  handed  as  a  token  of  love,  they  are  laid  on  the 
dinner-table  as  a  decoration  for  the  ladies.  In 
fact,  flowers  —  and  mighty  expensive  they  are,  too, 
and  very  beautiful  —  tied  up  with  the  loveliest 
ribbons  and  given  with  the  prettiest  grace,  often 
from  one  woman  to  another,  are  an  American 


From  The  New  New  York. 


FIFTH  AVENUE 
Drawn  by  Joseph  Pennell. 


CLUBLAND  AND  CHATTER      121 

craze.  It  was  most  touching  and  gratifying.  We 
don't  do  that  in  England  unless  a  woman  is  ill, 
and  then  her  room  is  turned  into  a  bower  of  blooms 
by  her  friends. 

Flowers  for  wearing  are  so  exquisitely  arranged 
in  Yankee  land.  One  loves  those  huge  bunches 
of  violets,  with  purple  bows  or  cords ;  those  gor- 
geous heliotrope  orchids  tied  with  heliotrope  rib- 
bons and  a  large  pin  to  match  --  the  yellow 
roses  or  pink  roses  with  bows  and  pins  to  corre- 
spond. They  are  adorable,  and  when  sent  by  a 
woman  to  a  woman,  they  have  an  added  charm. 

Our  American  sisters  are  delightful.  They  take 
so  much  pains  to  be  nice  to  one  another ;  wear 
their  smartest  clothes  at  women's  functions,  and 
arrive  determined  to  enjoy  themselves  and  make 
everyone  with  whom  they  come  in  contact  do 
the  same.  They  have  pretty  hands,  and  the  fine 
single-stone  rings  which  so  many  Americans  wear 
show  these  off  as  they  shuffle  the  cards  or  pick 
up  their  candies.  They  are  light-hearted  and  gay 
at  these  card  parties,  which  sometimes  begin  at 
eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning  !  On  the  other  hand, 
they  take  themselves  most  seriously  at  times,  as 
the  forty  or  more  clubs  for  women  in  Chicago 
alone  can  testify,  and  much  of  the  philanthropic 
work  their  members  accomplish  is  excellent. 

Yes,  American  women  strive  after  culture  ;  cul- 
ture is  a  craze,  and  so  hard  do  they  work  at  self- 


122  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

improvement  it  is  really  sad  to  see  how  few  women 
have  risen  to  acknowledged  prominence  in  art, 
science,  literature,  or  music,  in  comparison  with 
Europe.  But  America  is  young  yet,  she  tells  us 
so  every  day  and  all  day ;  but  she  is  growing 
older  and  more  matured  rapidly.  There  are  never- 
theless crowds  of  brilliant  women  in  the  States. 
They  are  clever  and  they  are  fascinating ;  they 
lay  themselves  out  to  be  charming.  But,  in 
spite  of  their  charm,  they  appear  to  make  the 
most  unhappy  marriages,  and  divorce  stories 
thicken  the  air.  A  large  number  of  Americans 
seem  to  be  divorced,  and  the  others  to  have  had 
appendicitis.  They  do'not  seem  particularly  moved 
by  either.  Every  State  has  a  different  divorce  law, 
and  really  it  seems  as  easy  to  be  set  free  as  it  is  to 
be  married. 

Weddings  take  place  in  the  evening,  often  in 
the  house,  sometimes  at  a  church ;  but  in  the 
latter  case,  the  reception  and  supper  are  given  at 
the  house  afterwards,  and  the  young  couple  slip 
off  about  ten  o'clock.  They  have  a  cake  and  a 
wedding-dress,  just  as  we  have,  and  the  bride  gives 
her  maids  a  gift,  and  the  groom  does  the  same  to 
his  best  man  and  ushers.  Our  silly  fashion  of 
having  to  be  married  before  three  o'clock  to  make 
it  legal  does  away  with  these  pleasant  evening 
functions,  and  yet  America  is  now  following  our 
example. 


CLUBLAND  AND  CHATTER      123 

Every  married  man  ought  to  wear  a  wedding- 
ring. 

Why  not  ? 

Women  wear  them  as  a  symbol. 

Is  there  any  logical  reason  why  one  sex  should 
submit  to  a  thing,  and  not  the  other,  when  both 
are  parties  to  the  same  act  ?  Many  sad  stories 
have  been  averted  by  a  ring.  Many  love  griefs 
have  come  about  by  its  omission.  A  girl  has 
fallen  in  love  with  a  man  and  then  found  too  late 
that  he  was  married.  It  is  an  injustice  to  the 
maid  for  a  married  man  not  to  wear  his  emblem 
of  wedlock. 

Many  Europeans  and  many  Americans  wear 
rings  ;  let  us  hope  the  Englishman  will  not  long 
lag  behind  as  if  he  were  ashamed  of  his  wife.  Each 
should  honour  the  other,  but  neither  can  "obey  ", — 
that  is  a  word  suggestive  of  thraldom.  Matri- 
mony should  mean  companionship,  although  as 
a  rule  the  man  gains  more  than  the  woman.  Alas, 
some  men  love  foolish  women,  and  pass  wise  ones 
by. 

There  is  no  such  question  as  sex  in  matters  of 
brains ;  or  work ;  but  sex  exists  and  always  will 
exist  outside,  and  is  too  precious  and  too  serious 
to  tamper  with.  Sex  is  the  greatest  force  in  life, 
for  life  itself  is  dependent  on  it. 

Platonic  friendship  is  ideal ;  but  it  is  only  pos- 
sible between  people  of  the  same  social  position. 


124  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

No  money  must  ever  pass  between  them.  The 
man  who  "helps"  the  poor  girl  is  a  villain  in  dis- 
guise;  the  poor  girl  who  accepts  his  "help"  is  a 
fool  in  petticoats.  Disasters  follow  for  every- 
one concerned. 


CHAPTER  VI 

ENTERTAINING  IN  THE  DARK 

MONEY  lightly  earned  is  often  lightly  spent,  just 
as  money  lost  is  mighty  hard  to  replace. 

On  the  whole  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  the 
American  women's  luncheons  are  too  magnificent. 

A  repast  —  consisting  of  melon  or  grapefruit, 
soup,  fish,  and  a  bird,  with  endless  vegetables ; 
an  elaborate  salad,  handed  alone ;  an  ice-cream 
with  angel  cakes ;  and  then  candies  (sweets) 
galore,  followed  by  coffee  —  takes  a  couple  of 
hours  to  serve  for  twenty  or  thirty  women.  There 
are  more  odds  and  ends  like  olives  and  celery,  a 
separate  sandwich  or  hot  bread  for  each  course ; 
crackers  (biscuits),  compotes,  and  jellies,  each 
and  all  solemnly  and  separately  handed  in  turn. 
Often  there  is  music  in  the  background,  such  as 
four  girls  at  violin,  piano,  'cello,  and  guitar ;  or  a 
man  playing  a  zither.  It  is  all  most  costly  and 
elaborate ;  very  charming,  very  sociable,  with 
beautiful  flowers  and  perfect  linen  ;  embroidered 
cloths  and  lace  mats ;  exquisite  china ;  but  it 
does  seem  a  long  time  to  spend  feeding  in  the 
middle  of  the  day,  although  the  dresses,  like  the 
ice-creams,  are  wonderful. 

12$ 


126  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

No  country  gives  'such  gorgeous  midday 
spreads,  and  in  no  country  do  women  congregate 
so  much  together.  There  are  many  more  lunch- 
eons than  dinners  whereas  in  England  the  latter 
predominate. 

Americans  live  in  the  dark ;  English  people 
live  in  the  light.  They  live  in  heat,  we  live  in 
cold.  The  extremes  of  either  are  disagreeable,  and 
in  every  case  and  in  each  land,  it  seems  difficult  to 
strike  a  really  happy  medium. 

They  certainly  have  pretty  subdued  lights  in 
America.  Many  of  the  lamp-shades  are  exquisite, 
especially  the  artistic  glass  ones ;  a  form  of  deco- 
ration which  originated  in  that  land  and  has,  alas  ! 
not  been  sufficiently  copied  in  Europe.  Some  of 
those  Tiffany  glass  shades  are  adorable,  and  the 
effect  of  a  beautiful  cathedral  window  light  in  the 
room  is  thought-inspiring.  But  these  lights  are 
sometimes  so  shaded  that  it  is  well-nigh  impossible 
to  recognise  friends. 

Americans  live  in  subdued  light,  and  entertain 
in  the  dark.  It  seems  strange  to  a  foreigner's  mind 
to  partake  of  one's  luncheon  in  the  dark  ;  but  the 
American  always  draws  down  her  blinds,  turns  on 
her  lamps,  and  sometimes  even  wears  ball  dresses 
for  her  luncheon  party. 

We,  on  the  other  hand,  have  far  too  much  light. 

It  was  often  my  luck  to  dine  with  one  of  the 
greatest  scientists  in  London ;  but  I  never  left 


ENTERTAINING  IN  THE   DARK  127 

his  house  without  a  headache.  His  rooms  seemed 
to  contain  more  electric  lights  than  any  other 
house,  and  none  of  them  were  shaded ;  conse- 
quently, by  the  end  of  the  evening  one's  eyes 
ached  and  one's  head  reeled.  This  applies  to 
many  of  our  hotels  and  assembly  rooms  in  which 
public  dinners  are  held,  where  the  lights  are  often 
garish  and  hideous,  and  so  fierce  that  the  people 
look  deadly  pale  and  ill.  One's  heart  goes  out  to 
one's  friends  in  sympathy  until  one  realises  that 
they  are  not  all  jaundiced  or  in  rapid  decline,  but 
merely  suffering  from  over-illumination.  That 
could  never  be  said  of  America,  where  they  suffer 
from  under-illumination  instead. 

Many  of  the  American  dining-rooms  are  dark 
in  themselves.  There  are  houses  where  the  din- 
ing-room has  no  outside  window  at  all,  or  at  most 
opens  on  to  a  small  courtyard.  Fine  houses  in 
New  York  are  built  like  this  in  hundreds.  Arti- 
ficial light  is  necessary  for  every  meal,  and  per- 
haps this  accounts  for  the  fact  that  Americans 
so  generally  feed  and  entertain  by  dull  artificial 
illumination.  Nothing  in  the  world  is  so  com- 
forting as  an  open  fireplace.  It  is  cosy ;  it  is 
bright ;  it  is  cheery.  It  ventilates  the  room,  it 
invites  confidence ;  in  fact,  an  open  fireplace  is 
part  of  the  British  Constitution ;  but  it  rarely 
warms  a  room,  never  to  an  equal  temperature, 
and  of  course  leaves  the  halls  and  passages  ab- 


128  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

solutely  cold.  This  is  a  most  serious  fault ; 
quite  as  serious,  uncomfortable,  and  detrimental 
to  health  as  an  American  house  kept  at  75°  or 
80°.  I  may  be  wrong,  of  course,  but  it  seems 
to  me  an  ideal  temperature  for  an  entire  house 
is  about  64°  or  68° ;  never  more.  But  that  is 
not  the  opinion  of  the  darky  gentlemen  of 
the  American  Pullman  car,  who  seem  to  think  a 
hundred  degrees  a  suitable  temperature  for  his 
clients  while  sleeping  in  shelves,  packed  away  like 
coffins  behind  thick,  dusty,  tapestry  curtains. 

British  fresh  air  and  Yankee  heat  served  up 
together  make  an  ideal  healthy  temperature  to  live 
in.  Either  is  unsatisfactory  alone.  So  much  do 
I  appreciate  the  heating  system  that  I  have  in- 
stalled it  in  my  London  home  along  with  many 
other  delightful  American  notions. 

Every  luncheon  table  in  America  appears  to 
be  round.  Whether  in  the  East  or  the  West,  it 
is  invariably  made  of  polished  wood  ;  whether  in 
the  North  or  the  South,  mats  —  embroidered  or 
perforated,  but  always  mats  —  vie  with  each  other 
for  place.  A  table-cloth  is  almost  unknown. 
There  are  few  flowers  and  little  silver,  but  there 
is  lovely  napery  and  exquisite  china,  each  course 
having  its  own  distinct  kind. 

At  every  luncheon  clear  soup  is  invariably 
served  in  the  daintiest  of  cups,  and  every  luncheon 
party,  from  the  east  to  the  west,  ends  in  ice-cream. 


ENTERTAINING  IN  THE   DARK  129 

To  be  original  is  never  considered  good  form  in 
America.  Everything  and  everybody  tries  to  be 
fashionable,  and  to  have  the  latest,  which  really 
means  to  be  moulded  in  exactly  the  same  pattern  as 
one's  neighbour.  Our  conservative  public  schools 
and  Republican  American  society  are  like  jelly-bags, 
they  try  hard  to  squeeze  everyone  into  one  mould. 

The  American  cuisine  is  excellent  and  varied. 
No  land,  save  Germany,  serves  many  dishes  nowa- 
days ;  and  King  Edward  reduced  our  long  dinners 
to  five  or  six  courses.  He  even  refused  to  sit  more 
than  an  hour  at  table.  There  are  more  diversi- 
fied foods  distributed  over  a  meal  in  America  than 
anywhere  else.  They  used  all  to  come  together 
and  to  be  served  on  side-dishes,  many  endless  little 
plates  encircling  one  big  one  ;  now  they  follow  one 
another  in  endless  succession.  The  number  of  foods 
that  have  passed  the  guests  during  the  course  of 
the  meal  are  uncountable.  The  spreads  were 
hardly  more  magnificent  in  the  days  of  the  ancients. 

One  item  in  the  menu  does  not  mean  one  meat, 
with  its  endless  little  livers  and  cockscombs  and 
truffles  ;  it  means  also  various  vegetables,  not  a 
separate  course,  as  in  France.  It  means  various 
compotes  of  fruit,  such  as  delicious  peaches  in 
vinegar  served  with  the  meat  food,  as  in  Germany. 
It  means  the  most  delicious  salads  in  the  world, 
salads  made  of  chicken,  tomato,  alligator  pears 
(which  are  not  pears  at  all),  grapefruit,  all  kinds 


130  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

of  nuts,  oranges,  bananas,  stewed  pears  dressed 
with  ketchup,  grapes,  raisins,  beans,  celery  stuffed 
with  prunes,  apples,  sometimes  served  singly, 
but  more  often  mixed ;  these  salads  invariably 
sit  upon  a  lettuce  leaf,  or  repose  inside  an  orange 
skin.  I  love  those  salads.  Every  time  I  sit  down 
at  the  table  I  marvel  at  the  dexterity  of  the 
American  woman  who  manages  to  manipulate 
her  salad  with  a  fork,  while  I  find  it  absolutely 
impossible  to  convey  large  leaves  of  lettuce  with 
rich  French  dressing  to  my  mouth  without  the 
aid  of  a  knife  to  cut  it  up.  It  is  as  impossible  for 
me  to  eat  salad  of  this  kind  with  a  fork  alone  as 
it  is  to  struggle  with  a  herring  without  a  fish- 
knife,  or  feed  with  chop-sticks. 

Lunch  is  a  mighty  queer  word.  To  the  Britisher 
there  is  only  one  form  of  "lunch"  and  that  centres 
round  one  o'clock.  It  may  be  the  workman's 
meal  from  twelve  to  one ;  it  may  be  the  middle- 
class  professional  man's  meal  about  one  o'clock, 
or  it  may  be  the  ultrasmart,  ultrafashionable 
party  at  a  quarter  to  two.  But  lunch  never  starts 
before  twelve  or  after  two. 

At  the  opening  of  the  splendid  new  Army  and 
Navy  Club  in  Washington  the  darky  gentleman 
at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  invited  us  to  go  up  in  the 
"elevator"  to  the  "lunch  buffet"  in  the  dining- 
room.  It  was  five  o'clock,  and  the  lunch  at  that 


ENTERTAINING  IN  THE   DARK          131 


£rotw»  by  W.  K.  Haselden.    Reproduced  by  permission  of  the  London  Daily  Mirror. 
SOUVENIR  HUNTERS 


132  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

hour  consisted  of  huge  bowls  of  various  forms  of 
punch,  a  little  tea  and  coffee,  tucked  away  in  a 
corner,  and  a  great  deal  of  chicken  salad,  foie 
gras,  boar's-head,  salmon  mayonnaise,  and  large 
dishes  of  game  pie. 

After  the  theatre  at  eleven  o'clock  at  night 
one  may  be  asked  to  take  a  "little  lunch."  We 
should  call  that  supper  or  light  refreshment,  but 
in  America  the  word  "lunch"  applies  with  equal 
respectability  to  a  meal  at  midnight.  This  is 
apparently  a  western  custom  which  has  crept  into 
the  East  in  the  last  few  years.  Most  customs 
travel  from  the  East  to  the  West,  so  it  is  quite  a 
novelty  to  have  the  system  reversed. 

My  father  (the  late  Dr.  George  Harley,  F.R.S. 
of  Harley  Street,  London)  arrived  somewhere 
near  Yellowstone  Park  in  1884,  very  tired  and 
weary  about  midnight,  after  a  long  journey  across 
the  States,  and  at  the  hotel  asked :  — 

"Can  I  have  something  to  eat  ?" 

"Guess  you  can  have  lunch." 

"Lunch,  man;  I  can't  wait  till  lunch  time,  I'm 
starving  ;  I  want  it  now." 

The  grandeur  of  the  hotel  only  consisted  in  its 
name  —  "Palace  Hotel".  It  was  a  wooden 
shanty,  a  sort  of  one-storied  booth. 

Butter  and  bad  air  haunted  me ;  how  these 
dear  Americans  can  consume  so  much  fatty  ma- 


ENTERTANIING   IN  THE   DARK  133 

terial  and  inhale  so  much  fetid  air  baffles  an  Eng- 
lishwoman. 

Oh,  succulent  butter  !  The  American,  from  hav- 
ing long  acquired  the  butter  habit,  does  not  expand, 
but  the  poor  Britisher  finds  her  gowns  tightening 
at  the  waist,  and  decreasing  at  the  neck  or  the 
elbows,  and  alas  !  has  no  "bits"  with  her  en 
voyage  to  put  in  convenient  little  F's  up,  or  P's 
down,  as  the  French  peasant  does  with  her  family's 
clothes.  What  marvels  of  industry  those  blue 
cotton  trousers  of  the  Frenchman  represent,  by 
the  bye.  A  square  here,  a  round  there,  or  a  V 
somewhere  else,  and  all  in  different  shades  of  the 
colour  from  different  stages  of  washing.  It  is 
the  thrift  of  France  that  has  made  her  rich. 
Thrift,  however,  does  not  flourish  on  American 
soil. 

The  English  visitor  is  haunted  by  butter  in  the 
States  :  butter  royally  sitting  all  by  itself  on  dear 
little  china  plates  before  her  seat  at  every  meal. 
Butter  everywhere  and  on  everything.  It  is 
excellent  butter,  but  butter  is  fat,  and  fat  as  fat 
is  taboo. 

Even  the  hotels  are  beginning  to  realise  the 
amount  of  butter  consumed.  It  used  to  be  given 
gratis,  now  it  is  sometimes  charged  in  the  bill, 
and  no  wonder,  when  one  customer  can  eat  a 
quarter  of  a  pound  at  a  meal,  that  it  is  beginning 
to  be  considered  a  chargeable  commodity. 


134  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

It  is  not  surprising  with  all  the  rich  food  that 
these  dear  women  require  globules  before  meals, 
capsules  after  meals,  and  tumblers  of  hot  water 
or  iced  water  at  all  times  of  the  day.  All  these 
things  ever  remind  the  seeker  after  slimness  to 
be  wary.  There  is  no  doubt  that  almost  anyone 
can  go  down  pounds  in  weight  in  a  few  weeks  by 
never  eating  and  drinking  at  the  same  time,  and 
avoiding  such  things  as  bread,  butter,  and  potatoes. 
It  is  more  convenient,  more  comfortable,  and 
more  healthy  to  be  thin ;  but  to  allow  it  to  be  a 
craze,  as  so  many  people  do,  is  really  making  the 
desire  to  be  slight  a  curse  to  oneself,  one's  servants, 
and  one's  neighbours. 

If  you  want  to  pay  a  man  or  a  woman  a  compli- 
ment, don't  say,  "How  well  you  are  looking." 
Oh,  dear,  no,  that  won't  please  them  in  the  least 
nowadays.  You  must  exclaim,  "How  much 
thinner  you  are."  They  will  beam  with  delight 
at  once. 

Society  to-day  is  separated.  One  set  is 
shut  up  in  rest-cures  struggling  to  get  fat,  to 
recover  shattered  nerves,  to  restore  long-lost 
sleep,  and  become  normal.  More  men  suffer 
from  nervous  breakdown  than  women  to-day. 
The  other  lot  are  fighting,  striving,  longing  to  be 
thin,  and  struggling  equally  hard  by  starvation 
(which  is  useless),  diet  (which  is  everything), 
baths,  and  globules,  to  get  thin.  Existence  to 


ENTERTAINING  IN  THE  DARK          135 

the  fashionable  is  quite  a  harassing  affair  ;  to  them 
the  simple  life  is  unknown  ;  they  deny  themselves, 
and  struggle,  strive,  and  fight  for  an  outward 
appearance  that  is  often  little  worth  attaining  at 
such  cost. 

Think  of  all  those  awful  chin  straps,  wrinkle 
removers,  nose  pinchers,  and  chest  developers 
that  people  are  said  to  wear  during  the  peaceful 
hours  of  the  night.  Where  can  the  peace  come  in 
if  one  is  trussed  like  a  fowl  to  be  made  slim  or 
youthful,  or  something  one  is  not  ?  And  think  of 
the  dear  old  folk  who  roll  on  the  floor,  and  skip 
and  jump  and  kick,  to  reduce  their  figures. 

Apparently  a  hundred  years  ago  it  was  not  con- 
sidered so  necessary  to  have  a  slim  figure  as  it  is 
at  the  present  day,  for  in  an  old  number  of  The 
Observer  of  that  date  we  read  the  following :  — 

"Gluttony.  — A  London  paper  asserts  the  following  trans- 
action to  be  a  fact :  On  Tuesday  last,  a  young  lady,  at 
Brighton,  daughter  of  a  respectable  family  in  London,  under- 
took to  eat  for  supper  the  enormous  quantity  of  three  hun- 
dred oysters,  with  a  portion  of  bread,  which  she  performed, 
to  the  no  less  astonishment  of  those  present  than  it  will  be 
to  all  who  read  this  extraordinary  performance." 

This  reminds  me  of  a  supper  to  which  I  was  once 
invited  in  the  Temple  in  London.  A  worthy 
barrister  who  possessed  some  beautiful  bric-a-brac 
bade  a  party  of  friends  to  an  oyster  supper.  We 
accepted  and  spent  a  very  pleasant  evening,  several 


136  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

eminent  singers  and  artists  being  of  the  number, 
and  then  supper  was  announced.  There  was  a 
round  table,  at  which  some  fourteen  of  us  sat  — 
a  table  covered  with  priceless  Sicilian  cloth,  ex- 
quisite Venetian  goblets,  quaint  blue-handled 
knives,  a  rose  du  Barri  dinner-service,  costly  Em- 
pire salt-cellars,  and  other  treasures  galore.  In 
the  centre,  stood  an  enormous  tray  on  which 
dozens  and  dozens  of  oysters  reposed.  On  every 
plate  a  dozen  of  these  shell-fish  were  piled  ;  I 
had  never  seen  so  many  oysters  in  my  life,  and, 
although  fond  of  them,  found  it  somewhat  difficult 
to  consume  more  than  a  dozen ;  although  they 
were  our  little  English  oysters  and  not  Lynn 
Haven,  which  are  as  big  as  legs  of  Easter  lamb  in 
Rome.  I  was  looked  upon  as  a  hopeless  indi- 
vidual, as  eight  dozen  per  person  had  been  supplied 
for  that  supper-party,  and,  wonderful  to  relate, 
many  of  the  guests  managed  to  eat  the  allotted 
number  although  they  did  not  reach  the  score  of 
three  hundred  of  the  lady  of  the  last  century, 
whom  Bismarck  ran  very  close  on  one  occasion. 

An  oyster  "gorge"  would  have  been  a  more 
suitable  name  for  that  feast  than  an  oyster  supper, 
methinks ;  but  then  that  was  in  the  days  before 
the  slim  craze,  which  has  swept  over  Europe  and 
North  America.  Morocco  and  South  America 
still  admire  female  beauty  by  its  adipose  pounds. 

In  the  drawing-room  of  the  famous  Lodge  where 


ENTERTAINING  IN  THE  DARK  137 

lives  the  Master  of  Trinity  College  at  Cambridge 
hang  two  pictures.  Both  are  life-sized ;  one  is 
of  Henry  VIII,  fat  and  jolly,  evidently  revelling 
in  beefsteaks  and  tankards  of  beer ;  in  the  other 
is  Queen  Elizabeth,  all  hoops  and  ruffles,  sleeves 
and  voluminosity,  but  —  and  that  is  the  point  — 
she  appears  to  have  no  internal  organs  at  all,  and 
a  waist  a  wasp  might  envy. 

Was  the  fat  or  the  slim  craze  in  vogue  in  those 
days  ? 

Every  nation  has  left  its  imprint  on  the  Ameri- 
can people  and  on  American  food. 

Frogs'  legs  are  a  French  delicacy;  that  is, 
perhaps,  why  Frenchmen  are  called  "Froggies"  ; 
and  frogs'  legs  are  common  in  America.  We 
never,  never  see  them  in  England,  and  yet  we  are 
so  near  we  can  look  across  the  Channel  on  a  clear 
day  and  see  France.  Boiled  in  milk  or  fried  in 
butter  these  little  white  meat  frogs'  legs  are  de- 
licious, especially  when  one  can  take  them  in  one's 
fingers,  as  a  recent  Queen  used  to  take  her  chicken 
bones ;  but  alas,  we  can  no  more  take  things  in 
our  fingers  in  good  society  in  England  to-day,  with 
the  exception  of  asparagus,  than  smoke  a  church- 
warden. 

Some  Americans  cut  up  their  meat,  lay  down 
their  knife,  and  partake  of  the  dainty  morsels  with 
their  fork  German  fashion.  Someone  will  shake 


138  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

his  head  and  exclaim,  "Where  has  she  been,  we 
never  do  that  in  Society,"  but  the  "best  society/' 
does  not  make  a  nation.  To  go  even  further; 
a  well-bred,  well-born  man,  a  leader  of  men,  eats 
and  even  cuts  everything  up  with  his  fork.  I 
have  seen  him,  and  marvelled  at  his  agility 
many  times ;  ham  or  tongue,  sliced  beef  or  mut- 
ton, are  parted  and  eaten  with  that  fork.  He 
never  takes  up  a  knife,  except  to  disjoint  a  bird, 
or  carve  through  an  American  three-inch-thick 
Porterhouse  steak.  After  all,  it  is  not  what  one 
does,  but  the  way  one  does  it,  and  habit  teaches 
us  how  to  do  odd  things  quite  prettily,  and  they 
cease  to  look  strange. 

Nothing  is  ever  handed  without  a  "service 
plate."  No  soup  is  proffered  in  its  dainty  double- 
handled  cup,  without  a  plate  below  —  and  a 
pretty  mat.  Every  course  reposes  on  a  "service 
plate."  Even  coffee  is  handed  on  a  "service 
plate."  It  saves  burning  the  servants'  fingers, 
or  the  polished  tables,  so  it  has  its  uses,  and  that 
service  plate  is  as  important  to  the  Yankee  as 
the  baby  butter  plate  or  the  finger-bowl.  There 
America  scores ;  even  the  humblest  restaurant 
gives  its  customers  a  finger-bowl  after  messy  food 
like  lobster,  and  always,  always  at  the  end  of 
dinner.  It  is  as  necessary  as  the  Mohammedan's 
wash  before  entering  his  mosque. 

I  love  those  American  finger-bowls,  I  hate  those 


ENTERTAINING  IN  THE   DARK  139 

American  service  plates  because  of  the  delay  they 
cause. 

But,  oh,  the  American  eggs. 

It  makes  one  shudder  to  think  of  the  American 
eggs.  They  are  very,  very  lightly  boiled ;  dirty 
white  fingers,  or  oily  darky  ones,  break  them,  peel 
them,  and  drop  them  into  a  cold  wine  glass.  Oc- 
casionally one  has  the  luxury  of  a  warmed  cup  or 
a  warmed  glass,  but  this  is  rare ;  the  fingers  are 
generally  dirty  and  the  glass  is  usually  cold.  The 
good  American  then  begins  his  struggle,  for  the 
egg  is  peppered  and  salted,  and  twirled  round  and 
round  until  its  very  appearance  makes  one  feel 
sick,  and  it  has  grown  thoroughly  cold.  Habit 
is  everything  in  life.  No  doubt  if  one  lived  long 
enough  in  America,  one  might  get  accustomed  to 
the  American  habit  of  eating  eggs  without  egg-cups. 
In  Lapland  they  do  this  because  they  have  no 
egg-cups  ;  but  they  have  a  clever  way  of  giving  the 
fat  end  of  the  egg  a  little  bump  on  the  plate,  and 
the  Lapland  egg  is  polite  enough  to  sit  up  on  his 
haunches  and  let  himself  be  devoured  warm, 
comfortably,  and  completely  with  a  spoon. 

Chicago  may  be  famous  for  smuts  and  fog ;  it 
certainly  might  also  be  called  famous  for  its 
cream.  Cream  !  Why  you  simply  cannot  get 
away  from  cream.  An  ironclad  might  be  floated 
in  a  week's  supply  of  Chicago  cream.  Delicious 
cereals  smothered  in  cream  appear  for  breakfast ; 


140  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

hot  buttered  corn-cakes,  hot  buttered  toast,  eggs, 
or  fish  are  served  up  and  cooked  with  cream ;  hot 
coffee  and  cream  to  boot.  Then  comes  luncheon. 
Tea  is  invariably  served  during  luncheon  in  Amer- 
ica, they  drink  it  with  the  viands ;  more  cream 
appears,  creamed  oysters  and  creamed  clams  are 
delicious,  so  is  creamed  chicken.  What  we  call 
"American  lobster"  is  really  hot  grilled  lobster, 
a  most  excellent  and  succulent  dish.  It  is  served 
with  hot  butter,  another  form  of  cream,  or  there 
is  a  cream  souffle  of  fish.  At  the  Blackstone 
Hotel,  whenever  I  lunched  there,  we  had  a  dish  — 
a  specialty  of  theirs -- known  as  Chicken  a  la 
king.  A  square  thick  piece  of  hot  buttered  toast 
was  put  on  to  each  guest's  plate ;  then  came  the 
chicken  itself,  from  which  a  helping  was  ladled 
out,  small  pieces  of  chicken  cooked  with  truffles 
and  mushrooms  in  cream  and  wine  sauce.  Ex- 
cellent, but,  so  rich. 

Cream  cheese  piled  on  to  currant  jelly  is  deli- 
cious. And  then,  of  course,  for  no  American 
could  live  without  it,  comes  an  ice-cream. 
"Cream  to  the  right  of  them,  cream  to  the  left 
of  them,  and  butter  everywhere."  That  corpu- 
lent gentlemen  are  not  unknown  is  hardly  to  be 
wondered  at ;  but  it  is  not  from  drinking  vodka, 
as  in  Finland  or  Russia,  but  from  cream  and 
butter.  No  wonder  the  women's  lives  are  one 
long  expensive  fight  against  adipose  tissue. 


ENTERTAINING  IN  THE   DARK  141 

The  influence  of  the  foreigner  is  everywhere, 
and  while  they  supply  American  foods,  they  also 
have  English  plum-pudding,  milk  puddings,  jams, 
marmalade,  beer,  green  turtle,  Finnan  haddie, 
and  apple  dumplings ;  Norwegian  fish-puddings ; 
German  pot  roast,  frankfurters,  and  sauerkraut ; 
endless  cheeses,  wines,  and  beers.  French  wines, 
sweets,  and  rows  of  French  dishes.  "Cold  slaw" 
is  a  delicious  dish  of  white  cabbage  which  was  a 
legacy  from  the  Dutch,  like  the  word  "stoop" 
or  "verandah,"  or  the  Dutch  names  outside  New 
York,  such  as  Harlem. 

The  cooking  in  America  is  as  excellent  as  the 
plumbing,  and  that  is  first  rate. 

Some  of  the  notices  in  restaurants  are  amus- 
ing. 

Please 

Don't  swear 
it  sounds  like  hell 

was  printed  on  a  card  at  one ;  on  the  reverse  side 
it  gave  the  name  and  address  of  the  restaurant, 
and  at  the  bottom :  "Nuff  ced." 

"Not  responsible  for  hats,  coats,  or  umbrellas" 
is  short  and  to  the  point,  or 

"Watch  your  coat  and  Hat"  may  mean  you  are 
to  sit  quiet  to  do  that  in  preference  to  feeding,  for 
which  purpose  you  presumably  came. 

"  Look  out  for  thieves  "  which  latter  may  suggest 


142  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

that  the  customer  is  supposed  to  do  a  bold  game 
of  thief-catching  whenever  he  sees  a  chance. 

People  in  the  States  strike  one  as  very  sober. 
"Soft  drink"  is  a  curious  name  for  a  sharp  lemon 
squash ;  but  everything  without  alcohol  is  called 
soft.  And  a  pretty  list  they  make. 

Coffee  Nag 

Chocolate  Fudge  Sundae 

Hot  Egg  Phosphate 

Hot  Egg  Pineapple 

Hot  Clam  Bouillon 

McAlpine  Flip 

Frosted  Egg  Chocolate 

Hot  Tomato  Bisque 

Angostura  Phosphate 

Fresh  Fruit  Strawberry  Soda 

Good  Little  Devil  Sundae 

Hot  Cream  of  Beef 

Hot  Tomato  Clam  Broth 

America  is  the  land  of  teetotalers.  All  honour 
to  them. 

Drink  is  the  ruin  of  many  of  our  workmen's 
homes.  One  need  not  be  a  total  abstainer,  but 
one  has  only  to  travel  about  Great  Britain  to  see 
the  ruin  drink  is  causing,  and  one  has  only  to 
travel  about  the  world  to  find  that  when  British 
men,  who  are  appreciated  everywhere  for  their 
ability,  are  dismissed,  drink  has  invariably  been 
the  cause. 


ENTERTAINING  IN  THE  DARK 


143 


f'  i'tn  IN  A 
FOREtCN  COUNTRY 
IT  DONV 

HOW  i 


Drawn  by  W.  K.  Haselden.    Reproduced  by  permission  oj  the  London  Daily  Mirror. 

THE  HOTEL  PROPRIETOR  AND  THE  VISITOR  FROM  A  FOREIGN  COUNTRY 


144  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

Drink  is  the  British  curse. 

When  a  working-man  is  an  abstainer,  he  says, 
"  I  am  on  the  water  waggon  ".  As  in  England  they 
sometimes  say  "on  the  teapot  ".  Or  a  friend  will 
remark,  "He  had  a  thirty-five  cent  jag,"  viz., 
spent  one  shilling  and  threepence  in  getting  drunk. 
"Tom  was  on  a  side-wheel  jag"  means  that  Tom 
had  a  little  more  than  was  good  for  him,  was 
"  screwed  "  in  fact.  Each  land  has  its  own  "  slang," 
and  the  American  slang  is  sharp,  concise,  and  ex- 
planatory. Slang  is  a  shortcut  on  the  conver- 
sational highway. 

It  was  most  interesting  to  an  Englishwoman, 
who  is  accustomed  to  public  dinners,  to  go  to  one 
in  the  States.  The  room  was  not  so  dark  as  the 
private  houses ;  but  it  was  deliciously  subdued, 
just  right  in  fact. 

In  many  ways  the  entertainment  was  curiously 
unlike  our  own.  In  the  first  place,  no  one  seemed 
to  receive.  With  us  there  is  always  a  host  or  pres- 
ident, or  a  committee,  or  something  of  the  kind  to 
whom  everyone  is  announced  in  a  loud  voice.  No 
one  received  at  the  American  banquet,  but  people 
wandered  in  as  they  liked,  and  most  of  them  were 
very,  very  late  ;  they  were  not  even  announced. 

Then  again,  there  was  no  toast-master.  That  ex- 
traordinarily characteristic  person,  of  deep  chest  and 
sonorous  tone,  did  not  come  forward  to  announce  : — 


ENTERTAINING  IN  THE   DARK  145 

"  Ladies  and  Gentlemen,  the  dinner  is  served." 

The  British  toast-master  is  a  British  institution 
from  historic  times,  and  a  very  useful  personage ; 
for  he  announces  the  visitors,  then  gathers  the 
people  together,  sends  them  in  to  dinner,  and  is 
a  veritable  Master  of  Ceremonies,  who  sees  that 
things  are  properly  arranged  and  got  through  to 
time.  At  the  American  dinner  there  seemed  to  be 
no  organiser  of  this  sort.  People  strolled  in  as  they 
pleased,  and  how  they  pleased.  The  walls  were 
decorated  with  star-spangled  banners  everywhere, 
and  very  handsome  and  impressive  they  looked. 
But  the  thing  that  struck  me  most  was  the  want 
of  system.  Everything  was  slow. 

The  dinner  had  dragged  out  its  long  course  — 
long,  verily,  for  it  was  two  hours  before  we  arrived 
at  the  ice-cream. 

At  last  a  man  rose  to  his  feet. 

Here  again  one  missed  the  toast-master.  In- 
stead of  his  rapping  on  the  table  and  saying, 
"Pray,  silence  for  Mr.  So  and  So,"  nobody  called 
attention  to  the  fact  that  a  gentleman  was  about 
to  speak,  and  it  was  some  moments  before  the 
hubbub  ceased  and  we  could  hear  what  he  was 
saying.  He  spoke  extremely  well,  fluently,  and 
to  the  point,  but  apparently  there  was  no  time 
limit  and  he  spoke  on,  and  on,  and  on,  for  about 
thirty-five  minutes.  Then  there  was  a  long  pause, 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  or  more,  when  another  man 


146  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

stood  up  and  began  a  speech  in  the  same  uncere- 
monious manner,  continuing  as  long  as  he  felt 
inclined. 

There  was  no  organisation  and  much  delay. 

The  last  public  dinner  I  had  attended  was  in 
London  on  the  last  day  of  July,  1912,  when  we 
held  the  Inaugural  Banquet  for  the  First  Inter- 
national Eugenics  Congress.  We  sat  down  nearly 
five  hundred  people  at  the  Hotel  Cecil  that  night 
as  the  clock  struck  half  past  seven  (the  appointed 
time).  We  left  the  tables  at  a  quarter  to  ten,  as 
ordained.  Several  hundred  more  members  of  the 
Congress  came  to  a  reception  at  that  hour.  All  of 
which  can  be  vouched  for  by  several  Americans 
who  were  present.  Mr.  Arthur  Balfour,  for- 
merly Prime  Minister  of  England,  was  the  chief 
speaker.  He  was  allotted  twenty  minutes,  and 
with  his  watch  on  the  table,  he  spoke  for  exactly 
twenty  minutes.  I  sat  next  him  so  I  know.  That 
speech,  delivered  without  notes  of  any  kind,  filled 
several  columns  of  our  newspapers  the  following 
day,  and  abstracts  were  cabled  over  the  world. 
The  other  speakers  were  each  allotted  ten  minutes, 
and  it  is  always  a  point  of  honour  to  sit  down 
when  the  time  is  up.  In  two  hours  and  a  quarter, 
five  hundred  people  were  fed,  and  six  important 
speeches  were  delivered. 

Another  thing  that  struck  me  at  this  American 
public  dinner,  which  lasted  about  five  hours,  was 


ENTERTAINING  IN  THE   DARK  147 

the  fact  that  the  men  began  to  smoke  with  the 
fish  course.  Smoking  is  only  permitted  in  England 
with  the  coffee. 

To  sum  up  :  — 

The  dinner  was  excellent ;  but  it  was  served  late 
and  was  far  too  long.  The  speeches  were  excellent, 
but  there  was  no  time  limit.  They  talked  too  much. 
There  was  no  method  for  receiving,  and  no  time 
for  leaving ;  so  people  seemed  to  be  moving  about 
all  the  while  in  a  most  disturbing  fashion.  It  is 
no  good  concealing  facts.  Americans  are  not 
good  organisers,  and  Americans  are  slow.  Per- 
haps when  their  blood  pressures  are  in  better 
working  order,  their  public  dinners  will  quicken 
up  a  bit. 

American  cooking  is  excellent ;  but  American 
organisation  is  bad. 

English  cooking  is  bad ;  but  English  organi- 
sation is  good. 


CHAPTER  VII 

SCRAMBLE  FOR  KNOWLEDGE 

"De  poeta,  y  de  loco 
Todos,  tenemos  un  poco." 

(We  all  have  something  of  a  poet, 
We  all  are  something  of  a  fool.) 

A  REPORTER  wishes  to  see  you  in  the  drawing- 


room.'' 


Downstairs  I  went.  A  nice  young  man  was 
sitting  there,  a  gentlemanly  young  man  of  pleasant 
mien. 

"My  editor,"  he  said,  "is  very  anxious  to  have 
another  interview  with  you  in  the  paper,  and  he 
thought  it  would  be  interesting  if  you  could  ar- 
range to  have  a  conversation  with  Mr.  B — ." 

"I  have  never  heard  of  Mr.  B — ." 

"What!  Never  heard  of  Mr.  B—  ?"  he  ex- 
claimed in  utter  amazement. 

"I  am  sorry,  but  I  have  not.  Perhaps  my 
education  has  been  neglected,  but  who  is  Mr. 
B--?" 

Before  explaining  who  this  renowned  gentleman 
was,  he  proceeded  :  — 

148 


SCRAMBLE  FOR  KNOWLEDGE 


149 


Z?rawn  iy  W.  K.  Haselden.    Reproduced  by  permission  of  the  London  Daily  Mirror. 

"PSYCHOLOGY"  AS  AN  Am  IN  THE  CHOICE  or  CAREERS  FOR  THE  YOUNG 


ISO  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

"My  editor  thought  that  if  you  would  fix  a  time 
when  you  could  see  Mr.  B — ,  he  would  send  a 
shorthand  reporter  who  would  take  down  the 


conversation.'1 


"A  sort  of  duologue  ?"  I  laughed. 

"Yes,  something  of  that  kind.  An  exchange 
of  opinions,"  he  continued. 

"It  is  very  kind  of  your  editor/'  I  replied,  "but 
as  I  know  nothing  of  the  gentleman  or  his  doings, 
my  opinion  on  that  subject  would  be  perfectly 
useless  to  man  or  beast,  so  I  am  afraid  I  must 
decline." 

He  really  seemed  quite  crestfallen ;  for  he  evi- 
dently thought  that  he  had  hit  on  an  original  idea 
and  tried  to  persuade  me  to  reconsider  the  matter. 
I  would  not,  and  he  finally  left. 

At  luncheon  that  day  I  was  relating  the  episode 
to  my  host. 

"Who  on  earth  is  Mr.  B—  ?"  I  asked.  "I  have 
never  heard  of  him." 

He  laughed. 

"That  young  man  seemed  to  think  him  very 
important,"  I  continued,  "and  I  really  feel  as 
though  my  education  is  not  complete  until  I  know 
something  of  the  gentleman  in  question." 

My  host  laughed  yet  more  immoderately. 

"What  did  you  tell  him  ?"  he  asked. 

"I  told  him  I  had  never  heard  of  anyone  of 
that  name." 


SCRAMBLE  FOR  KNOWLEDGE  151 

"Splendid,  splendid,"  he  chuckled.  "This  is 
the  last  thing  in  American  reporting.  B —  is  a 
man  who  has  been  standing  for  a  position  in  the 
town.  He  has  got  in,  but  his  election  is  being  dis- 
puted as  corrupt.  He  is  not  a  man  who  has  ever 
been  heard  of  outside  this  city,  or  ever  will  be, 
I  should  imagine,  nor  would  he  be  of  any  interest 
to  a  traveller,  and  I  fail  to  see  how  you  could  talk 
to  him  on  his  trade  or  tackle  him  on  the  Corrupt 
Practices  Act  for  the  amusement  of  any  newspaper 
readers."  And  he  laughed  merrily  again  at  the 
situation. 

Could  anything  have  been  more  ridiculous  ? 
That  poor  young  man  had  been  sent  miles  on  a 
perfectly  impossible  errand,  to  ask  me  to  perform 
a  perfectly  impossible  act.  There  is  nothing  that 
some  American  papers  will  not  strive  to  do  by  way 
of  a  novelty. 

My  admiration  for  the  American  reporter  is 
unbounded.  My  gratitude  to  many  of  them  is 
sincere  —  but  there  are  others  who  seldom  report 
what  his  victim  says,  but  exactly  what  he  wishes 
him  to  say.  He  comes  with  various  questions. 
If  the  stranger  knows  about  the  North  Pole,  he 
immediately  proceeds  to  ask  him  about  the  South 
Pole ;  and  if  he  cannot  answer  to  his  satisfaction 
on  the  South  Pole,  he  goes  off  and  writes  a  pretty 
little  article  of  what  he  ought  to  have  said,  or 
what  he  wished  him  to  say,  always  in  his  own 


152  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

words,  because  he  feels  a  desperate  need  to  say 
something  and  "make  a  scoop." 

Do  these  press  men  ever  realise  how  extraordi- 
nary it  is  for  an  Englishwoman  to  read  purely 
American  sentences  put  into  her  mouth,  so  Amer- 
ican in  framing  that  she  could  not  possibly  have 
spoken  those  sentences  had  she  tried  ?  In  fact, 
the  wording  of  those  phrases  and  their  slang  make 
them  almost  unintelligible  to  the  foreigner's  un- 
intelligent brain.  These  reporters  do  not  want  to 
probe  anything ;  they  just  want  to  pick  up  scraps 
of  information  to  dress  the  front  windows,  the 
storehouse  behind  being  left  empty. 

American  reporters  are  a  type  of  the  American 
brain.  They  often  fail  to  get  the  best  or  the  most 
characteristic  information  from  their  subject ; 
and  in  their  desire  to  be  smart,  endeavour  to  force 
their  victims  to  say  things  they  do  not  think,  and 
never  could  think  or  say. 

For  instance,  before  one  has  set  foot  in  a  town 
the  reporter  asks  :  — 

"What  do  you  think  of  our  town  ?" 

You  have  never  been  to  "our  town"  ;  you  have 
not  had  time  to  think  anything  at  all  about  it, 
and  gently  say  so,  and  fence  about,  while  the  in- 
terviewer persists  in  plying  questions  about  his 
own  particular  city,  its  municipal  work,  its  build- 
ings, its  beauties,  and  above  all,  its  faults.  One  is 
always  asked  to  point  out  faults,  and  then  roundly 


SCRAMBLE  FOR  KNOWLEDGE  153 

abused  for  doing  so.  For  the  American  reporter 
dearly  loves  to  suggest  faults  and  tries  hard  to  get 
his  subject  to  agree  with  him. 

"Of  course,  you  think  us  young  and  vulgar," 
or  "Of  course,  you  are  amazed  at  our  hustle,"  or 
"Of  course,  you  think  us  badly  dressed,  and  of 
course  you  hate  our  streets  and  our  hotels  ;  and 
of  course  you  are  amazed  at  our  advancement 
and  our  learning." 

You  have  not  had  opportunity  to  open  eyes  on 
that  particular  town  ;  you  have  not  seen  its  build- 
ings nor  studied  its  municipal  work.  And  even 
if  you  had,  your  opinion  on  both  during  half  an 
hour's  investigation  would  be  utterly  worthless. 

How  they  love  to  try  and  force  one's  hand. 

One  has  barely  registered  one's  name  in  an  hotel 
before  reporters  knock  at  the  door.  Many  of 
them  are  boys  and  girls  of  eighteen  or  nineteen, 
who  are  learning  to  write  at  the  expense  of  their 
victims.  Their  views  of  life  are  confined  to  school 
or  night  school  education.  They  have  neither  read 
nor  travelled.  Sensationalism  and  what  will  look 
well  in  a  big  head-line  is  all  they  want. 

The  questions  :  "What  do  you  think  of  Amer- 
ica ? "  "  What  do  you  think  of  American  politics  ? " 
are  reiterated  with  ceaseless  regularity,  as  if  those 
two  large  subjects  could  be  glibly  globuled  by  the 
visitor  in  three  minutes  for  a  large  head-line. 

That  is  the  ordinary  American  interview,  with 


1 54  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

the  exception  of  about  a  dozen  first-class 
papers. 

"  Write  your  own  interview,"  one  of  the  best- 
known  men  in  the  States  said  to  me.  "I  always 
do,  and  then  there  can  be  no  perversion  of  the 
truth.  Believe  me,  it  is  the  only  thing  to  do.  If 
the  paper  wants  an  interview,  it  will  have  one  some- 
how. If  you  don't  see  the  reporter,  somebody 
will  invent  a  story,  so  the  only  wise  and  safe  thing 
to  do  is  to  write  one  out  yourself  and  hand  it  in." 

I  left  the  country  feeling  it  was  marvellous  that 
I  still  had  a  single  friend  on  American  shores. 
People  are  often  given  credit  for  what  they  have 
never  said  or  done,  and  sometimes  to  their 
disadvantage. 

Misrepresentation  stings,  but  even  stings  heal, 
and  when  one  is  in  the  right,  nothing  hurts  for 
long,  so  one  ends  by  laughing. 

No  one  would  intentionally  write  a  libel  any 
more  than  he  would  intentionally  cut  a  friend. 

The  following  head-lines  are  specimens.  In 
several  cases  the  whole  page  below  them  was 
courteously  devoted  to  the  present  writer. 

BOSTON   LEAVENS   WHOLE   U.    S.   A.    SAYS   MRS. 

TWEEDIE. 
AMERICAN  WOMEN  DISSECTED  BY  AN  ENGLISH 

WRITER. 

(half-inch  letters  across  the  whole  page  of  the  New  York 

Times) 


SCRAMBLE   FOR   KNOWLEDGE  155 

Even  larger  letters : 

SAYS  CHICAGO  IS  FAD  SLAVE. 

(three-quarter-inch  letters  and  half-page  notice) 

BUSY  MRS.   ALEC-TWEEDIE. 

VERSATILE   ENGLISHWOMAN. 

THOUGHT  SHE  WAS  INVITED  TO  TEA  AND  NOT 

TO  TALK,     (half-inch  letters) 

FINDS  AMERICAN  WOMEN  PRETTIEST,  (half  inch) 
SIMPLER   DIVORCE  URGED. 

URGES   SEX  QUALITY  TO  UPLIFT  NATION, 
(quarter  inch) 
MRS.    ALEC-TWEEDIE    LOVES   THE    STRENUOUS 

URGE  OF  NEW  YORK. 
MARRIAGE  CERTIFICATES  AND  ENGLISH 

AUTHOR. 
A  BLOODLESS  REVOLUTION. 

and  so  on  galore. 

I  quite  agree  with  Sir  Herbert  Tree  that  it  is 
difficult  "to  be  worthy  of  one's  head-lines  ". 


Here  is  a  curious  story. 

A  man  was  sitting  in  his  office.  The  telephone 
rang. 

"Is  that  Mr.  Schwartzenberger  ?"  The  man 
jumped.  That  was  his  old  name.  It  was  now 
Seymour. 

There  are  one  million  Jews  in  New  York,  and 
they  are  heavily  represented  in  politics.  Nearly 
a  quarter  of  the  population  is  Jewish.  Mr.  Sey- 
mour was  one  of  them.  Incidentally,  there  are 
only  about  eleven  million  Jews  in  the  world,  so 


156  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

New   York    is   their    Palestine.     They   were    the 
chosen  people  ;  —  will  they  inherit  the  Earth  ? 

"We  are  printing  a  little  article  next  week  about 
you,  Mr.  Sch — ,  and  we  thought  you  might  like  to 
see  it  before  it  goes  to  press." 

Mr.  Sch —  thought  he  would,  and  accordingly 
arranged  for  the  man  to  call.  Two  columns  of 
type  were  laid  before  him ;  the  journalistic  ferret 
had  unearthed  him  as  Schwartzenberger  "at  a 
sweat-shop  way  down  town,"  and  had  followed  his 
career,  not  perhaps  always  a  strictly  honourable 
one,  to  Broadway.  Was  he  to  lose  all  now  by 
this  blackmailing  villainy  ? 

"What  will  you  take  for  it,  and  not  publish 
it  ?" 

"You  see,  Mr.  Sch — ,  it  would  increase  our  sale  ; 
it  would  be  of  great  value  to  us.  It  has  already 
cost  us  much  money." 

"What  will  you  take  for  it  ?" 

Much  palaver,  and  then  a  thousand  dollars 
(£200)  was  agreed  upon. 

Just  as  the  Press  ferret  was  leaving,  Mr.  Sch— 
thought  he  had  better  be  quite  sure  of  his  quarry. 

"Remember,  this  means  that  my  name  never 
appears  in  your  paper  ?" 

"  I  don't  promise  that,  because  I  know  we  have 
a  little  story  about  Johnson  &  Company,  in  which 
you  were  connected." 

This  was  terrible.     Had  he  bought  up  one  ar- 


SCRAMBLE  IFOR   KNOWLEDGE  157 

tide  to  be  haunted  by  others.  After  much  talk 
and  much  barter  the  Press  ferret  agreed  to  two 
thousand  dollars  as  a  sum  which  would  keep  Mr. 
Schwartzenberger  and  his  doings  out  of  the  par- 
ticular paper  for  all  time,  and  he  was  clever  enough 
to  get  a  contract  signed  to  that  effect  on  the  spot. 

That  particular  paper  lives  on  these  doings,  and 
has  a  large  sale.  The  law  does  not  interfere. 
Alas  for  the  shady  side  of  journalism  ! 

Modern  newspapers  are  largely  composed  of 
snippets  and  advertisements ;  but  the  Press  in 
America  is  most  certainly  improving,  while  the 
press  in  Europe  is,  alas,  sadly  deteriorating. 

Never  do  I  know  so  little  of  the  news  of  the 
world  as  when  I  am  in  the  States.  In  far-away 
Russia,  in  spite  of  the  Censor  blacking  out  great 
lumps  of  the  foreign  newspapers  when  they  do 
not  approve  of  the  politics  or  Russian  news 
given,  one  can  see  and  understand  the  English, 
German,  French,  or  Spanish  newspapers  to  be 
found  in  all  the  good  hotels.  In  America,  one  is 
dependent  on  the  American  Press.  There  are 
some  most  excellent  papers ;  but  in  the  smaller 
towns  one  is  limited  to  the  local  press.  These 
appear  to  be  all  head-lines,  and  I  am  so  spellbound 
at  the  size  of  their  type,  the  amazing  coinage  of 
words,  and  the  extraordinary  indictments  con- 
tained in  those  news  head-lines,  that  I  never  have 


158  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

time  to  read  the  matter  below,  nor  to  find  what  it 
has  to  do  with  the  head-line  above. 

The  American  people  are  literally  fed  on  head- 
lines. One  comes  to  a  condition  of  knowing  there 
is  a  war  going  on  somewhere  ;  that  in  some  battle, 
somewhere,  thousands  of  troops  are  being  killed  ; 
but  where,  when,  or  how,  one  does  not  evolve  from 
the  wild  American  newspapers,  because  what  one 
reads  on  Monday  is  contradicted  on  Tuesday. 
Except  —  and  let  me  say  again  there  are  excep- 
tions—  in  the  more  serious  Press;  but  then  the 
more  serious  Press  is  in  the  minority  in  the 
country. 

Those  American  head-lines  positively  stagger 
the  uninitiated.  They  suggest  nothing  but  in- 
sanity and  criminality.  One  shivers  to  think  that 
the  whole  country  is  so  mad  or  so  bad.  One  seeks 
in  vain  for  a  few  pleasant  words  to  catch  the  eye, 
but  one  seeks,  and  seeks  with  no  result.  They  are 
perfectly  horrible,  generally  utterly  incorrect,  and 
they  certainly  give  a  disastrous  impression  to  a 
stranger  as  to  the  capabilities  and  advancement 
of  the  country.  And  yet  people  are  paid  thousands 
a  year  merely  to  invent  head-lines.  Head-line 
writing  is  a  trade  of  its  own,  and  is  paid  according 
to  its  startling  possibilities. 

For  a  staid  good  paper  the  following  is  an  ex- 
ample of  mildness. 


SCRAMBLE   FOR   KNOWLEDGE  159 

(Front  Page) 

WOMAN'S  SKULL  FRACTURED  BY  BEER  BOTTLE 

ADMITS  KILLING  ELEVEN  BABIES 

GIRL  KILLS  HER  MOTHER 

KITTENS  CAUSE  HER  DEATH 

FREE  WHISKEY  FOR  MONKEYS 

UR:GES  TROUSERS  FOR  WOMEN 

JUMPS  TO  HIS  DEATH 

(Second  Page) 

MOSQUITOES  CAUSE  CAT'S  SUICIDE 

HE  WED  ANOTHER,   SHE   CRIES 

MISFITS  IN  SENATE 

FORTUNE  HANGS  ON  WATCH 

HEN  SWALLOWS  RUBY 

BELIEVE  GOD  SWAYED  PEN 

NO  SUNDAY  LETTERS  BUT  BIGGEST  PAPERS 

BLAZE   IN  MARKET 

WOMEN  TO  WEAR  TROUSERS 

JOY  RIDE  IN   PRISON  VAN 

Yellow  journalism  would  call  that  "tame 
twaddle".  It  wants  "eye  starters". 

American  journalism  is  all  brimstone  and  thun- 
derbolts. 

The  American  Sunday  paper  is  a  marvel.  It  often 
contains  excellent  stuff,  but  oh,  those  extra  coloured 
pages.  Are  they  for  the  babies  or  for  whom  ? 
Artistic  merit  seems  the  last  thing  necessary. 
Vulgarity  often  takes  the  place  of  wit.  News 
there  is  none,  so  they  merely  remain  heterogeneous 


160  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

splodges  of  colour  across  the  page.  May  these  extra 
coloured  supplements  perish.  They  are  dreadful. 
The  American  Sunday  paper  has  grown  enormously 
since  I  first  saw  it.  In  fact,  if  one  bought  three  of 
them  at  a  railway  station  to-day,  it  would  require 
a  wheelbarrow  to  trundle  them  along  the  plat- 
form. 

Many  American  people  find  their  only  literature 
in  the  Sunday  papers.  Many  acquire  their  educa- 
tion also  therein,  and  seek  no  other.  Some  of  that 
literature  is  extremely  good,  and  of  particular 
value  because  the  articles  are  signed.  Signed 
articles  have  so  much  more  force  than  the  poisoned 
darts  of  anonymity.  Sunday  papers  and  night 
schools  are  the  greatest  educational  factors  of  the 
United  States,  and  they  are  both  remarkably 
good. 

It  is  curious  that  when  the  American  newspapers 
are  so  inferior,  the  American  monthly  magazines 
are  so  vastly  superior  to  the  European  periodicals. 
The  magazines  are  varied  in  material,  with  excel- 
lent letter  press,  and  good  illustrations.  The  best 
magazines  in  the  world  in  fact. 

When  approached  by  a  firm  of  English  pub- 
lishers to  put  various  books  into  a  twenty-five 
cent  form,  I  demurred,  thinking  that  everybody 
who  wanted  to  read  them  had  done  so  in  the 
expensive  editions. 


SCRAMBLE  FOR   KNOWLEDGE  161 

"There  you  are  wrong,"  replied  the  publisher; 
"these  shilling  books  tap  quite  another  market. 
In  the  midland  counties  of  England,  near  the 
factories  or  the  coal-pits,  near  the  shipbuilding 
yards  and  the  potteries,  there  is  an  enormous 
population  where  every  home  has  its  little  library. 
It  is  to  these  people  we  sell  books  in  tens  of  thou- 
sands. As  the  man  goes  home  on  Saturday  night 
with  his  wages  in  his  pocket,  he  spends  a  shilling 
on  a  book  of  travel  or  biography  for  Sunday  read- 
ing, and  the  following  week  he  buys  a  novel  at 
a  cheaper  rate.  These  books  can  be  found  in 
hundreds  on  the  shelves  of  the  artisans  of  Eng- 
land." 

He  was  right.  The  books  sold  in  tens  of  thou- 
sands. This  is  merely  an  instance  to  shew  that 
the  British  workman  and  his  family  do  not  only 
read  books  provided  at  the  public  libraries,  but 
that  the  people  of  Great  Britain  invest  small 
portions  from  their  earnings  in  literature  for  them- 
selves, and  are  proud  of  their  book  shelves. 

Does  this  happen  in  the  States  ? 

Speaking  of  books  reminds  me  that  I  asked  the 
head  man  of  the  "biggest  book-store  in  the  world," 
—  why  neither  very  expensive  nor  very  cheap  books 
appeared  to  sell. 

"We  have  a  fickle  public,  m'arm.  There  are 
scholars  with  fine  libraries,  especially  among  the 
lawyers,  but  there  are  millionnaires'  houses  without 


1 62  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

a  book  shelf,  and  besides  the  newspapers,  little 
is  really  read  but  novels.  We  think  we  read,  but 
we  don't." 

I  was  surprised. 

"We  are  young  yet,  you  see,"  he  continued. 

"Young  ?  Are  you  never  going  to  grow  up  ? 
I  am  as  often  told  you  are  'still  young'  as  I  am 
told  'everything  is  the  biggest.'  Both  expressions 
are  beginning  to  lose  all  significance  to  me,"  I 
could  not  help  replying. 

I  have  several  times  seen  "the  largest  shop  in 
the  world,"  and  each  time  in  a  different  American 
town.  Twice  they  have  shown  me  "the  finest 
collection  of  Italian  pictures  in  the  world."  Twice 
I  have  seen  "the  largest  libraries  in  the  world." 
Several  times  I  have  been  assured,  "This  is  the 
finest  hotel  in  the  world"  ;  and  so  on  till  my  head 
whirls  and  I  wonder  if  I  am  in  dreamland,  or  if  I 
shall  ever  have  any  sense  of  balance,  or  power  of 
comparison  again. 

America  may  not  read  much,  but  she  does  fight 
hard  for  education.  If  the  pioneers  do  not  get 
lost  in  a  tangle  of  their  own  theories,  American 
education  ought  to  astonish  the  world. 

Millionnaires  dump  down  thousands  of  dollars 
to  make  their  names  famous  and  see  their  hobbies 
take  tangible  form.  Great  buildings,  well  en- 
dowed, well  professored,  spring  up  in  a  twinkling 
like  mushrooms,  and  away  the  teachers  go  into 


SCRAMBLE  FOR   KNOWLEDGE  163 

an  educational  vortex,  each  airing  his  own  views, 
each  working  along  his  own  lines. 

The  general  education  is  undoubtedly  good  and 
sound  and  the  standard  is  high.  It  sharpens  in- 
telligence, but  it  does  not  seem  to  awaken  a  keen 
intellectual  interest. 

This  education  produces  high  mediocrity,  but 
apparently  retards  the  inspiration  of  genius. 

A  higher  standard  of  honesty  and  manners 
might  be  encouraged  ;  surely  these  have  been  a 
little  neglected. 

I  never  felt  so  ignorant  about  history  before. 

One  seldom  goes  for  a  motor  drive  but  one  is 
shown  some  battle-field  where  the  Americans  de- 
feated the  English.  A  "handful  of  Americans 
slew  a  whole  battalion,"  or  "this  spot  was  the 
camp  of  General  So-and-So  before  he  was  defeated 
by  the  Americans,"  and  so  on.  How  is  it  we  do 
not  know  all  these  stories  of  our  cowardice  and 
American  valour  ?  How  was  it  we  were  so  hope- 
lessly incapable,  as  the  American  historians  say  ? 

There  may  not  be  much  hero-worship  in  Yankee 
land,  but  there  are  an  extraordinary  number  of 
battle-fields  on  which  we  shewed  a  miserable  front. 

To  sum  up  American  history  as  taught  in  the 
schools  to-day,  let  us  take  the  following  rough 
and  disjointed  extracts  roughly  condensed  from  a 
child's  book:  — 


164  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

"The  Italian  Columbus  landed  in  America  in  1492  with  a 
Spanish  fleet.  The  French  —  the  English  —  the  Dutch 
followed. 

"In  1607  after  many,  many  failures  the  first  successful 
English  colony  was  founded  in  what  they  call  Virginia  (in 
honour  of  the  Virgin  Queen  Elizabeth),  the  town  was  called 
Jamestown  in  honour  of  that  King  (James  I.).  Tobacco 
was  appreciated,  and  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  introduced  it  into 
England. 

"Twelve  years  later,  ninety  English  women  arrived  to 
marry  these  settlers.  The  scheme  was  so  successful  ship- 
load after  shipload  was  sent  out,  and  each  man  paid  his 
wife's  passage  money  with  120  pounds  of  tobacco. 

"Another  ship  arrived  with  the  first  negroes  as  slaves 
from  Africa. 

"Charles  I.  gave  a  piece  of  Virginia  to  Lord  Baltimore, 
which  he  christened  Maryland  after  the  Queen  (Henrietta 
Maria). 

"English  pilgrims,  who  could  not  worship  to  their  liking 
in  England  or  Holland  —  102  in  all,  arrived  in  America  in 
the  Mayflower  in  1620,  and  called  the  town  Plymouth  (near 
Boston). 

"The  pilgrims  were  not  the  only  people  who  could  not 
live  in  England  where  everyone  was  persecuted.  Others 
known  as  the  Puritans  were  so  hardly  treated  that  they  too 
turned  to  America.  They  founded  Boston  and  found 
peace.  .  .  ." 

But  that  American  history  book  does  not  say 
anything  about  the  persecution  that  followed  these 
poor  immigrants,  at  the  hands  of  their  brethren 
in  the  New  World. 

This  historical  teaching  in  American  schools 
is  unfortunately  most  antagonistic  to  England 
and  the  English  in  every  way.  The  oppression, 


SCRAMBLE   FOR   KNOWLEDGE  165 

the  cruelty,  the  religious  troubles,  are  dwelt  upon 
in  every  chapter,  although  no  doubt  unintention- 
ally and  hardly  realised  by  many.  It  is  absolutely 
wrong  to  teach  those  foreign  millions  of  immigrants 
from  lands  over  the  seas  that  England  is  the 
enemy  of  America,  that  she  ever  has  been,  and 
that  she  ever  will  be.  After  all,  does  America 
not  owe  her  language  to  us,  her  name,  and  her 
traditions  ? 

The  Pilgrim  Fathers  went  out  largely  from 
Lincolnshire  and  Nottingham  to  New  England. 
It  is  curious  that  the  descendants  of  these  people 
have  kept  to  the  pronunciation  of  the  flat  "a." 
In  the  east  of  old  England  and  in  New  England  in 
the  States,  they  pronounce 

half  haef 

bath  baeth 

calf  caef 

To  return  to  the  history  book  :  — 

"The  presence  of  Dutch  on  the  Hudson,  the  Delaware, 
and  Long  Island  was  dangerous  to  the  English.  Charles  II. 
raised  the  old  claim  to  the  whole  Atlantic  coast  (1664). 
War  followed  between  England  and  Holland. " 

"  Penn,  the  Quaker,  who  could  no  longer  live  in  the  thral- 
dom of  England  landed  and  founded  Pennsylvania. 

"England  invited  emigrants  for  America.  Thirteen 
colonies  under  English  control  were  planted  along  the  Atlan- 
tic coast.  Charles  II.  was  a  tyrant  and  governed  harshly. 
For  nearly  forty  years  there  was  fighting  in  America  to  de- 
cide whether  the  French  who  ruled  Canada,  or  the  English 
who  held  the  Atlantic  seacoast  should  keep  America. 


166  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

"In  1732,  the  Saviour  of  America,  George  Washington, 
was  born.  (He  was  employed  by  an  Englishman,  Lord 
Fairfax.) 

"The  French,  the  Indians,  and  the  English  all  fought. 
America  won,  and  the  thirteen  British  colonies  were  turned 
into  thirteen  American  states. 

"In  1776  they  threw  off  the  irksome  English  yoke  and 
the  Declaration  of  Independence  was  signed,  but  it  was 
five  years  before  the  whole  army  surrendered  to  Washington, 
and  there  was  much  fighting  between  whiles,  in  which  the 
Americans  gained  endless  glorious  victories. 

"Betsy  Ross  (with  a  strangely  Scottish  name)  thereupon 
made  the  Stars  and  Stripes  flag,  in  1777,  at  Philadelphia. 

"Aided  by  the  French  the  Americans  won  their  last 
great  victory  over  the  English  in  1781  and  America  was 
admitted  by  Great  Britain  'to  be  sovereign  free  and  indepen- 
dent/ Great  Britain  had  to  take  away  her  obnoxious 
troops.  In  1789,  George  Washington  became  first  President 
of  the  United  States,  and  so  ended  the  English  misrule  and 
British  tyranny. 

"The  slavery  question  brought  civil  war.  After  fifty 
years' struggle,  slavery  was  abolished  in  1863  by  Lincoln.  .  .  ." 


Perhaps  the  people  dwell  so  continually  on  these 
battles  against  the  British  because  they  have  only 
suffered  two  big  wars  -  -  The  War  of  Independence, 
and  the  Civil  War,  the  North  against  the  South ; 
the  race  war  has  still  to  come.  Anyway  the  first 
seems  to  have  made  a  wonderful  impression  judging 
by  the  frequency  with  which  the  Britisher  is  re- 
minded of  his  sins,  and  shewn  scenes  of  glorious 
American  victories.  These  battle-fields,  represent- 
ing magnificent  American  deeds,  are  shewn  to  the 


SCRAMBLE  FOR  KNOWLEDGE  167 

stranger  as  incessantly  as  "  the  greatest  things  in 
the  world." 

Some  of  the  earliest  films  produced  on  the  bio- 
scope depicted  incidents  connected  with  Britain's 
war  in  South  Africa.  Troops  marched  to  the  rail- 
way stations,  waved  farewell  as  their  trains  puffed 
out  of  stations,  mustered  on  the  decks  of  the  trans- 
ports ;  and  the  huge  ships  glided  out  of  harbour, 
friends  sadly  watching  the  last  glimpse  of  their 
men-folk.  And  then  again  came  views  of  dis- 
embarkation in  South  Africa  and  train  loads  of 
sturdy  Britishers  on  their  way  to  the  seat  of 
war. 

Would  the  bioscope  had  been  known  a  hundred 
and  fifty  years  ago.  But  let  us  draw  aside  the 
misty  veil  of  Time  and  peep  at  the  scene. 

Sailing  ships  of — to  our  eyes --pigmy  dimen- 
sions ;  bad  quarters,  bad  food,  stale  water,  no 
space  for  exercise,  the  vessels  being  crammed  with 
human  freight  to  their  fullest  capacity ;  six  weeks 
being  "good  time"  for  such  a  voyage  to  the  Ameri- 
can coast. 

Imagine  it.  Imagine  the  unfit  condition  of  these 
men.  Imagine  their  plight  on  landing  ;  no  trains 
to  convey  them  to  the  field  of  action  —  a  dreary 
tramp  in  a  strange  land  though  joined  by  the  Loyal- 
ists in  America.  The  difficulties  of  feeding  an 
army  under  such  conditions  were  enormous. 
Many  fought  half-heartedly,  no  doubt,  feeling 


168  [AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

they  were  Britishers  righting  Britishers,  and  there 
was  no  national  animosity  as  an  incentive. 

Yet  America  to-day  is  a  little  apt  to  think  only 
of  her  own  glory.  She  can  only  conceive  the  vast 
ocean  liners  which  link  her  shores  to  those  of  Great 
Britain  in  six  days  and  less.  Perhaps,  after  all, 
being  "so  young"  she  can  only  assimilate  the 
present,  and  has  not  time  to  widen  her  vision  to 
the  past. 

Patriotism  is  good ;  but  it  must  not  pervert 
truth.  We  made  a  mistake  and  we  suffered  for 
it,  but  let  us  hope  we  did  not  do  all  those  awful 
things  laid  at  our  door. 

The  reverence  shown  to  the  American  flag  is 
one  of  the  reasons  of  the  pride  of  the  citizen  in  his 
land.  Every  little  alien  must  respect  his  new  flag. 
He  is  taught  to  march  before  it,  to  salute  it,  to 
know  all  about  it,  how  every  star  represents  a 
State ;  how  the  hated  English  oppressed  the 
people,  and  then  had  to  evacuate  ;  how  America  is 
the  greatest  land  on  God's  earth,  that  the  Ameri- 
cans are  the  luckiest  of  His  people.  How  the  flag 
must  be  honoured,  how  the  flag  stands  for  inde- 
pendence and  wealth  and  power.  How  he  has 
only  to  follow  to  be  ground  into  the  American  mill 
and  possibly  emerge  as  President  of  the  United 
States  himself.  Flag,  flag,  flag  everywhere.  It  is 
a  fine  idea.  A  splendid  idea.  One  we  might  cul- 


SCRAMBLE  FOR  KNOWLEDGE  169 


Drawn  by  W.  K.  Haselden.    Reproduced  by  permission  of  the  London  Daily  Mirror. 

RAG-TIME  OR  SPORT,  STAR-SPANGLED  JOY  EVERYWHERE 


170  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

tivate  with  advantage.  It  makes  patriots.  It 
teaches  respect  for  that  one  thing,  even  if  education 
otherwise  leaves  the  word  "respect"  most  respect- 
fully alone. 

There  is  a  wonderfully  national  spirit  in  America, 
the  seeds  of  which  were  sown,  and  perhaps  fostered, 
on  the  land  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago  by  the 
British. 

Americans  squabble,  Americans  fight,  Americans 
are  jealous  of  one  another,  but  when  it  comes  to  big 
questions,  they  stand  shoulder  to  shoulder ;  and 
if  it  ever  came  to  war,  every  man  would  support  his 
flag  regardless  of  personal  feelings.  Never  was  any 
flag  so  precious,  so  in  evidence,  so  aggressive  as  the 
American  flag.  It  is  waved  about,  it  is  the  foun- 
dation of  the  American  citizen,  it  is  behind  the 
Speaker's  chair  in  Congress,  it  is  draped  in  banquet 
halls  and  public  meetings  ;  in  fact,  it  is  everywhere. 

In  a  simple,  unpretending  little  house  in  Phila- 
delphia the  woman  who  made  this  flag  once  lived. 
I  went  there  in  1904  with  dear  Dr.  Horace  Howard 
Furness  to  see  the  descendant  of  this  Betsy  Ross. 

Betsy  Ross  was  a  Philadelphian  Quakeress ;  she 
made  the  first  flag  at  the  time  of  the  Declaration 
of  Independence  in  1776,  but  little  did  she  dream  of 
the  millions,  aye  billions,  of  replicas  her  work  would 
inspire.  Why,  in  New  York,  for  that  one  procession 
of  a  hundred  thousand  of  the  most  respected  citi- 
zens who  marched  in  the  rain  for  hours  to  do  Me  Kin- 


SCRAMBLE  FOR  KNOWLEDGE  171 

ley  honour,  I  saw  a  hundred  thousand  little  flags 
carried,  to  say  nothing  of  quite  as  many  more 
which  hung  across  the  streets  and  decorated  the 
houses.  It  is  a  fine  flag,  but  it  is  possible  to  get 
tired  even  of  the  star-spangled  banner. 

In  a  delightful  little  book  entitled  "  The  Story 
of  Our  Flag,"  by  Addie  Guthrie  Weaver,  whom  I 
had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  in  Chicago,  the  writer 
says :  - 

"The  Continental  Congress  of  1775  was  very  much  dis- 
turbed over  the  embarrassing  situation  of  the  colonies, 
and  after  George  Washington  was  appointed  commander- 
in-chief  of  the  army,  it  showed  its  independence  by  appoint- 
ing a  committee  to  create  a  colonial  flag  that  would  be  national 
in  its  tendency.  They  finally  decided  on  one  with  thirteen 
bars,  alternate  red  and  white,  the  "King's  Colours,"  with 
the  crosses  of  St.  Andrew  and  St.  George  in  a  field  of  blue. 
The  cross  of  St.  Andrew  then,  as  now,  was  of  white,  while  the 
cross  of  St.  George  was  red.  The  colonies  still  acknowledged 
the  sovereignty  of  England,  as  this  flag  attested,  but  united 
against  her  tyranny.  This  was  known  as  the  "flag  of  our 
Union,"  that  is,  the  Union  of  our  Colonies.  It  was  unfurled 
by  Washington,  January  i,  1776,  and  received  thirteen 
cheers  and  a  salute  of  thirteen  guns." 

The  same  day  the  English  king's  speech  arrived, 
and  the  army  was  so  indignant  at  its  contents  that 
they  burned  every  copy.  Unfortunately  England 
was  hardly  as  wise  in  her  treatment  of  America  in 
those  days  as  she  ought  to  have  been,  and  thus  we 
lost  the  United  States ;  but  we  gained  knowledge 
thereby,  and  knowledge  is  power.  That  knowledge 


172  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

we  have  applied  to  the  better  government  of  our 
other  colonies. 

On  May  20,  1776,  Washington  was  requested  to 
appear  before  Congress.  Accompanied  by  Col. 
George  Ross  and  the  Hon.  Robert  Morris,  he  pre- 
viously called  upon  the  lovely  young  widowed 
niece  of  the  former,  and  asked  her  to  help  him  out 
of  the  difficulty  of  the  flag ;  she  was  a  beautiful 
needlewoman,  and  a  most  gifted  creature.  Wash- 
ington unfolded  his  own  rough  drawing  of  his 
scheme,  in  the  little  house  in  Philadelphia  which 
yet  remains,  showing  her  thirteen  stripes  (repre- 
senting thirteen  states)  on  a  blue  field  dotted  with 
thirteen  stars.  Mrs.  Ross  noticed  the  stars  were 
six  pointed,  and  suggested  they  should  have  five 
points.  Washington  admitted  that  she  was  correct, 
but  he  preferred  a  star  that  would  not  be  an  exact 
copy  of  his  own  coat  of  arms,  and  he  also  suggested 
that  the  six-pointed  star  would  be  easier  to  cut  out. 
Mrs.  Ross,  nothing  daunted,  took  up  a  piece  of 
paper  which  she  deftly  folded,  and  with  one  clip  of 
her  scissors  showed  him  a  perfect  star  with  five 
points.  It  was  according  to  this  pattern  that  the 
good  lady  made  the  famous  star-spangled  banner. 
She  procured  all  the  bunting  possible  in  Philadel- 
phia to  make  flags  for  the  use  of  Congress,  Colonel 
Ross  furnishing  the  money. 

It  seems  certain  that  on  Christmas  Eve,  1776, 
Washingto.n  carried  her  famous  flag  across  the 


SCRAMBLE  FOR  KNOWLEDGE  173 

beautiful  Delaware  River  amid  ice  and  snow  to  vic- 
tory. I  spent  some  days  on  the  banks  of  the  Dela- 
ware. What  a  beautiful  river  it  is,  and  how  lovely 
is  much  of  the  scenery  in  New  Jersey  !  The  Ameri- 
can continent  possesses  hundreds  and  hundreds  of 
miles  of  dreary  prairie,  veritable  desert ;  but  there 
are  equally  beautiful  spots,  and  one  of  them  is  the 
Delaware  —  the  cradle  of  the  star-spangled  banner. 
Writing  of  the  flag,  Mrs.  Weaver  continues  :  — 

"  This  flag  of  forty-five  stars,  this  flag  of  our  country,  is 
our  inspiration.  It  kindles  in  our  hearts  patriotic  feelings, 
it  carries  our  thoughts  and  our  minds  forward  in  the  cause 
of  liberty  and  right.  On  sea  and  on  land,  wherever  the 
star-spangled  banner  waves,  it  thrills  the  heart  of  every 
true  American  with  pride.  It  recalls  the  memories  of  battles 
bravely  fought.  It  recalls  the  victories  of  Trenton  and 
Princeton,  it  recalls  the  victories  of  Gettysburg  and  Appo- 
mattox.  We  see  the  flag  as  first  carried  by  Paul  Jones  across 
the  sea ;  we  see  the  flag  as  carried  by  Commodore  Perry  on 
Lake  Erie;  we  see  the  flag  as  carried  by  Farragut  at  New 
Orleans ;  we  see  Admiral  Dewey  through  smoke  and  fire 
hoisting  the  flag  in  the  Philippines.  This  same  flag  was 
carried  to  victory  by  Admirals  Sampson  and  Schley  in  Cuba. 
This  flag  recalls  the  many  battles  bravely  fought  and  grandly 
won.  It  symbolises  the  principles  of  human  progress  and 
human  liberty.  The  stars  represent  the  unity  and  harmony 
of  our  States.  They  are  a  constellation  typifying  our  coun- 
try. Their  lustre  reflects  to  every  nation  of  the  world.  The 
flag  of  1776,  the  old  thirteen,  has  grown  to  be  one  of  the 
great  flags  of  the  earth.  Its  stars  reach  from  ocean  to  ocean. 
We  see  it  leading  the  armies  of  Washington  and  Greene,  of 
Grant  and  Sherman  and  Sheridan,  and  of  Miles,  Shafter, 
and  Merritt." 


174  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

I  was  introduced  to  Betsy  Ross's  granddaughter 
by  the  late  Horace  Howard  Furness,  the  great 
Shakespearian  writer  of  America -- probably  the 
greatest  Shakespearian  writer  of  the  world  —  with 
whom  I  had  the  honour  of  staying  in  Philadelphia. 
I  use  the  word  "honour"  advisedly,  for  there 
could  be  no  more  perfect  gentleman  or  profound 
scholar  than  Dr.  Furness. 

The  descendant  of  the  needlewoman  of  the  star- 
spangled  banner  was  selling  trophies  at  the  State 
House  in  Philadelphia,  and  seemed  very  proud  of 
her  descent.  That  old  State  House  is  a  perfectly 
delightful  building,  with  queer  red  bricks  and 
painted  white  windows,  and  it  represents  the  birth 
of  a  great  Government.  It  was  not  until  a  hun- 
dred years  after  the  signing  of  the  Declaration  of 
Independence  that  America  awoke  to  the  fact  that 
she  might  build  up  a  museum  of  the  history  of  her 
own  government.  To-day  it  is  one  of  the  proudest 
spots  in  America. 

I  loved  Peaceful  Philadelphia.  Here  are  now 
collected  the  portraits  of  all  the  enterprising 
spirits  of  that  time,  the  very  table  on  which  the 
famous  deed  was  signed,  the  chairs  —  anything 
and  everything,  in  fact,  appertaining  thereto. 
The  collection  is  almost  complete,  and  every 
American  ought  to  visit  that  pretty  old  spot,  with 
its  famous  Liberty  bell,  to  learn  how  he  became  free, 
and  something  of  his  history.  There  hang  por- 


SCRAMBLE   FOR   KNOWLEDGE  175 

traits  of  our  Kings  and  Queens  —  America's  Kings 
and  Queens,  until  the  famous  day  in  1776,  when  the 
United  States  spread  her  wings  and  soared  away 
from  us.  We  lost  a  rich  country  that  day,  a 
country  full  of  great  natural  wealth,  both  in  agri- 
culture and  mines ;  but  those  young  Americans 
wanted  none  of  us,  they  wished  to  be  free  from  all 
conventionality  and  conservatism,  and,  like  the 
child  who  has  learned  to  walk,  they  ran.  That 
was  only  a  century  and  a  half  ago ;  but  many  of 
their  Republican  ideas  are  strangely  modified. 
They  have  a  Navy  and  an  Army.  They  are  form- 
ing an  aristocracy,  and,  strange  as  it  may  seem, 
Republican  America  is  strongly  Conservative,  and 
old  customs  and  conventionalities  are  creeping  in 
on  every  side.  President  McKinley  himself  was 
in  some  ways  a  Tory  of  the  Tories. 

Every  republic  tends  towards  conservatism, 
and  every  monarchy  towards  republicanism.  To 
many  of  us  the  recollection  of  the  past  is  a  store- 
house of  precious  gems,  the  realisation  of  the  pres- 
ent is  often  without  sparkle ;  yet  the  anticipation 
of  the  future  is  fraught  with  glitter  and  the  crown  of 
happiness  hangs  ever  before  our  eyes. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
THREE  ELECTIONS  AND  SOME  REFLECTIONS 

THAT  an  Englishwoman  should  have  seen  three 
Presidential  elections  in  America  appears  strange. 

It  seems  to  have  become  a  sort  of  habit,  for  it 
cannot  surely  have  been  mere  chance  that  I  should 
have  been  in  the  United  States  for  three  elections, 
each  so  exciting,  and  yet  so  entirely  different. 

It  so  happened  that  the  writer  was  in  New  York 
in  1900,  just  before  the  election  for  the  new  Presi- 
dent of  the  United  States.  Great  was  the  excite- 
ment on  every  side.  The  political  ferment  was 
greatest  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  sky-scrapers. 
"Down  town"  (as  the  region  of  the  famous  Wall 
Street  is  called)  was  hung  with  flags  ;  star-spangled 
banners  waved  across  the  thoroughfares  ;  mottoes, 
promises  of  everything  possible  and  impossible, 
waved  on  streamer  and  bunting.  The  names  of 
McKinley  and  Bryan,  or  their  two  supporters  for 
the  Vice-Presidency,  met  the  eye  at  every  turn. 
Huge  head-lines  filled  several  inches  of  the  papers  ; 
committee  rooms  were  besieged  with  voters  and 
loafers.  New  York  was  all  agog. 

To  the  ordinary  traveller  New  York  is  always  a 

176 


THREE  ELECTIONS 


177 


UMPING-JEHOSHAPHAT- 
CATS  ,  VME  VL  FRA12LE 
EH  BOYS  .MAKE 
'EM   LOOK  LIKE 
THIRTY  CENTS, 
AND  HORNSWOCCLE 
THE  LOT 


MUST  BE  FOND 
OF  CHILDREN 


VNONDERFUL 
HANOSHAK1NQ 


.  JT.  Ha^gWew.    Reproduced  by  permission  of  the  London  Daily  Mirror. 

QUALIFICATIONS  NECESSARY  FOR  AN  AMERICAN  PRESIDENT 


178  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

pretty  busy  place  with  its  congested  traffic  and  the 
ceaseless  din  of  the  overhead  railway,  but  somehow 
the  approaching  election  seemed  to  make  it  more 
in  a  bustle  than  usual.  The  newsboys  did  a  more 
lively  trade  with  their  papers.  Everyone  seemed 
either  to  be  in  the  rush  "to  register,"  or  on  the 
tear  back  from  having  accomplished  this  important 
preliminary  towards  the  choice  of  his  future  Pres- 
ident. Meanwhile  the  two  chosen  candidates 
were  running  around  the  country  making  four  or 
five  speeches  a  day,  cheered  or  hooted  at,  as  the 
case  might  be,  each  party  being  apparently  per- 
fectly confident  that  his  particular  man  would  be 
returned  at  the  head  of  the  poll. 

Wall  Street  (the  Stock  Exchange)  fluttered  with 
excitement,  and  it  was  amusing  to  watch  the  spec- 
tacle from  above.  A  well-known  member  of  the 
Stock  Exchange,  the  late  Mr.  Robert  Goodbody, 
took  me  up  to  the  gallery  to  see  the  scene.  In 
London,  no  outsider  dare  view  the  sacred  precincts 
of  The  House  (Stock  Exchange)  ;  but  in  New  York 
things  are  nothing  if  not  up-to-date,  and  any  man 
or  woman  is  allowed  to  stand  in  the  gallery,  if 
accompanied  by  a  member.  There  were  something 
like  eleven  hundred  members  at  that  time,  but  a 
third  of  that  number  was  considered  a  good  attend- 
ance. A  vast  hall  lay  below  us  with  round  seats 
here  and  there,  each  seat  being  the  centre  for  some 
big  railway  company  or  mining  interest,  or  indus- 


THREE  ELECTIONS  179 

trial  undertaking.  Here  stocks  could  be  bought  or 
sold.  Every  man  seemed  to  have  a  note-book  in 
his  hand,  and  everyone  seemed  to  talk  louder  than 
his  neighbour.  Each  member,  and  only  members 
are  admitted,  has  to  buy  his  seat,  and  £6000  or 
£7000  was  the  ordinary  price  for  the  privilege, 
although  a  man  lately  paid  about  £10,000 ;  but 
having  paid  that  big  sum  for  a  seaty  the  purchaser 
does  not  seem  to  be  provided  with  even  a  cane- 
bottomed  chair.  With  few  exceptions  —  those 
circling  the  stock  centres  —  there  are  no  seats  at  all, 
and  everyone  stands.  Grey-coated  youths,  wear- 
ing a  privileged  uniform,  run  about  with  messages 
for  the  brokers,  and  at  each  end  of  the  hall  are 
numerous  telephones ;  the  big  firms  having  a  pri- 
vate wire  to  their  own  office,  so  the  "boss,  or  floor 
broker,"  has  not  to  leave  the  building,  and  can  give 
all  his  messages  to  the  telephone  clerk,  for  others  to 
work  out  at  the  adjacent  office.  This  noisy,  paper- 
strewn  hall  was  the  heart  of  the  famous  "Wall 
Street,"  one  of  the  most  important  business  centres 
of  the  universe. 

There  are  six  thousand  members  on  the  London 
Stock  Exchange  and  two  thousand  five  hundred 
clerks.  It  is  a  company  comprised  of  its  own  mem- 
bers. America  chiefly  deals  in  its  own  wares, 
London  in  international  stocks  of  all  kinds. 

Only  these  eight  thousand  five  hundred  people 
can  enter  the  sacred  precincts ;  but  naturally 


i8o  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

among  that  large  number  an  outsider  occasionally 
slips  in. 

"Fourteen  hundred"  is  quickly  called  in  many 
tones,  and  the  poor  stranger  is  mobbed  and  pushed 
and  hustled  until  he  becomes  a  sort  of  football  and 
retires  in  a  condition  of  papier  mache. 

The  whole  body  of  men  bursts  into  song  occasion- 
ally on  slack  days,  especially  when  a  well-known 
man  becomes  matrimonially  engaged,  then  they 
sing  "The  Power  of  Love  ".  Top  hats  in  winter 
and  straw  hats  in  summer  are  their  uniform. 
Architecturally  the  building  counts  for  naught 
outside ;  inside  it  is  merely  a  series  of  ugly 
additions  to  a  very  old  hall. 

Did  the  worn,  harassed  expression  and  pale  faces 
of  New  York  seen  on  every  side  come  from  the 
tearing  rush  of  life  ? 

Probably  the  coming  election  has  had  its  effect, 
which  had  culminated  in  the  wildest  excitement  on 
the  declaration  of  the  poll  and  everything  in  the 
commercial  world  was  put  out  of  gear.  But  so 
terrible  had  this  general  upset  of  the  quickly 
recurring  elections  become,  that  in  1912  all  was 
changed. 

The  morning  after  the  election  of  Dr.  Wilson 
should  have  meant  riot  and  tribulation  in  Wall 
Street.  It  used  to  be  so  in  days  gone  by.  But  the 
good  gentlemen  who  control  the  financial  markets 
had  decreed  otherwise  and  had  settled  that  what- 


THREE  ELECTIONS  181 

ever  the  issue  at  the  poll,  the  whole  business  of  the 
country  must  not  be  juggled  with.  Consequently 
peace  reigned.  Stocks  and  shares  remained  quiet. 
Only  place-seekers  and  place-losers  were  in  a  tur- 
moil of  unrest. 

Mr.  Bryan,  now  Secretary  of  State,  came  one 
evening  during  McKinley's  election  to  Madison 
Square  to  speak  to  many  thousands  of  voters, 
called  by  the  way  "the  Honourable  the  Electors"  ; 
but  in  spite  of  their  eagerness  to  hear  the  great 
man,  the  seething  mass  of  humanity  seemed  tired, 
and  wore  that  wearied,  harassed  look  so  often 
noticeable  in  America.  In  his  portraits  Mr.  Bryan 
is  made  a  veritable  Hercules  ;  he  is  nothing  of  the 
kind  ;  but  he  has  a  good  presence  and  a  fine  voice. 
One  feels  instantly  that  he  is  a  son  of  the  people,  a 
true  Democrat,  and  there  is  an  earnestness  about 
him  which  at  once  holds  his  audience.  He  spoke 
simply  and  effectively,  and  as  if  his  words  came 
from  his  heart,  and  were  the  honest  convictions  of 
a  democratic  mind.  His  reception  in  1900  in  New 
York  was  tremendous.  But  that  vast  crowd  had 
on  that  occasion  assembled  in  Madison  Square 
from  curiosity,  not  from  belief  in  him,  for  they  did 
not  elect  him.  Just  the  same  story  of  interest  and 
curiosity,  not  actual  support,  was  repeated  at  the 
end  of  1912,  and  yet  Dr.  Wilson  immediately  put 
him  into  office. 

Three  things  during  poor  McKinley's  last  elec- 


1 82  AMERICA  AS   I   SAW  IT 

tion  remain  strong  in  my  memory.  The  procession 
of  the  " Sound-monied  Men",  dear  old  gentlemen 
of  wealth  and  position,  trudging  along  in  mud  and 
rain,  to  show  their  interest  in  the  political  situation. 
I  remember  the  endless  star-spangled  banners ; 
and  I  remember  hearing  Bryan  speak,  or  rather, 
seeing  him  shout  and  gesticulate  to  a  throb- 
bing crowd. 

That  was  the  time  of  the  Dewey  Arch,  a  really 
beautiful  structure  put  up  in  honour  of  Admiral 
Dewey' s  splendid  work  in  the  Philippines.  The 
arch  is  gone.  Its  site  is  barely  remembered. 
Dewey  is  forgotten.  America  leaves  no  man  a  hero 
for  long.  This  hero  of  a  moment  is  as  completely 
out  of  mind  as  a  President  out  of  office.  In  twelve 
years  much  happens.  Many  memories  are  washed 
out,  especially  in  America. 

McKinley  got  in  amid  great  excitement,  and 
shortly  afterwards  he  was  shot  by  the  dastardly 
hand  of  an  anarchist.  A  great  and  much-respected 
man  passed  away ;  never  did  the  States  know 
greater  prosperity  than  under  McKinley,  whose 
name  was  honoured  throughout  Europe.  The 
king  of  England  ordered  Court  mourning.  Many 
even  of  the  populace  of  England  donned  sable 
garb  in  courtesy,  and  to  do  honour  to  their  brothers 
across  the  seas ;  showing  publicly  the  love  and 
sympathy  of  the  Mother  country  for  her  child. 
Here  we  see  another  proof  of  the  consanguinity  of 


THREE  ELECTIONS  183 

England  and  America.  They  may  squabble,  they 
may  have  their  tiffs,  as  all  good  families  do ;  but 
the  bond  of  union  is  there,  deeply  rooted,  and  ever 
bearing  good  fruit. 

The  second  time,  in  1904,  when  I  was  again  in 
the  States  for  a  political  election,  I  was  speeding 
towards  Mexico  City  to  be  the  guest  of  General 
Porfirio  and  Madame  Diaz.  The  train  was  pound- 
ing through  the  desert  lands  of  Texas.  It  was  full 
of  men,  —  such  funny  men.  Cowboys  from  ranches, 
miners  from  underground  workings,  youths  from 
dry  goods  stores,  darkies  from  saloons  (drink-shops) 
all  and  sundry  were  in  my  Pullman  car,  for  there  is 
only  one  class  on  some  trains.  All  were  more  or  less 
on  one  errand  bent.  They  were  all  men,  and  they 
were  all  going  to  vote.  Sometimes  we  passed 
through  a  state  where  drink  could  be  bought  on 
the  train ;  and  at  others  we  were  plunged  into  a 
dry-state  district  where  the  selling  of  alcohol  was 
prohibited.  That  did  not  stop  the  would-be  voters 
drinking,  however ;  they  knew  when  they  would 
enter  the  prohibited  state,  and  laid  in  their  store 
beforehand.  Sometimes  we  passed  where  no  cards 
were  allowed,  and  all  had  to  be  swept  temporarily 
away,  at  other  times  we  travelled  where  smoking 
was  prohibited.  Each  American  state  has  its  own 
laws. 

As  the  train  was  trundling  along  the  dreary, 


1 84  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

sandy,  treeless  waste  towards  the  El  Paso  frontier 
it  suddenly  jerked.  The  great,  heavy,  iron  Pull- 
man car  drew  up  with  a  thud.  We  were  all  thrown 
from  our  seats.  Confusion  reigned.  In  the  car 
half  the  beds  had  been  made  and  put  away ;  in 
other  beds  —  pigeon-holes  one  might  call  them  — 
the  occupants  still  lay,  some  were  still  snoring, 
that  dear,  delightful,  cheery  American  snore  one 
gets  to  know  so  well. 

What  was  it.     What  could  it  be  ? 

An  accident,  verily.  A  washout  and  a  land- 
slip had  disturbed  the  rails,  and  the  injured  driver, 
or  as  America  calls  him,  the  "engineer,"  had  just 
pulled  up  in  time  to  save  our  being  dashed  to  pieces 
on  the  incline. 

Weary  hours  followed.  Men  got  out  and  in- 
spected the  rails.  Men  came  back  into  the  car  and 
talked.  Men  got  out  again  and  walked  a  little 
way,  swore  loudly  at  the  fact  of  there  being  no 
possibility  of  communicating  with  the  next  station, 
and  "damned"  at  being  kept  waiting  on  the 
prairie,  when  they  had  travelled  several  hundred 
miles  to  record  their  vote.  But  all  in  vain.  There 
we  were,  and  there  we  remained. 

Only  one  train  went  down  South  each  day  ;  and 
one  train  came  North  along  that  single  track,  so  we 
were  completely  cut  off  from  the  outside  world. 
There  was  barely  a  blade  of  grass  on  the  prairie. 
The  skeleton  of  a  cow  gleamed  white  and  fearsome 


THREE  ELECTIONS 


185 


THE   BLACK 
EVE  HOSPITAL 

FOR 
ELECTIONEERJERS 


Drawn  by  W.  K.  Haselden.    Reproduced  by  permission  of  the  London  Daily  Mirror. 
A  STRENUOUS  AMERICAN  CAMPAIGN 


1 86  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

in  the  sunlight.  Dust  blinded  our  eyes  in  great 
swirls  every  now  and  then. 

Hours  passed.  No  one  seemed  to  know  anything. 
No  one  seemed  able  to  decide  anything.  Only 
three  things  were  certain,  that  we  could  not  go  on, 
and  that  we  were  not  only  without  food,  but  with- 
out water.  For  ten  hours  we  stopped  in  that 
position.  At  the  end  of  that  time  we  all  got  out 
and  carried  our  bundles,  through  sand  as  thick  and 
heavy  as  though  it  were  the  seashore,  down  one 
ravine,  and  up  another  on  the  other  side. 

We  were  all  hungry,  we  were  all  cross ;  the  lan- 
guage of  my  male  companions  was  choice  ;  and  we 
were  all  helpless,  and  I  was  almost  the  only  woman. 

Half  a  mile  away  the  northward-bound  train 
had  arrived,  and  had  been  stopped  by  some  of  our 
party.  Into  those  Pullmans  we  bundled,  glad  to 
spend  the  night  slowly  wending  our  way  towards 
El  Paso.  Our  train,  having  exchanged  its  freight 
of  humanity,  although  it  could  not  do  the  same  with 
the  heavy  luggage,  went  backwards  ;  but  the  con- 
tinuation of  our  journey  did  not  vouchsafe  comfort, 
for  the  sheets  in  the  car  we  had  entered  had  been 
used,  and  the  towels  were  wet. 

We  arrived  in  El  Paso  too  late  for  anyone  to  re- 
cord his  vote. 

For  my  third  Presidential  election  I  was  in 
Chicago,  November  6,  1912.  American  politics 


THREE  ELECTIONS  187 

were  at  the  height  of  a  revolution.  The  Repub- 
lican Party  had  controlled  the  National  Govern- 
ment, with  but  two  short  intervals,  for  over  half  a 
century.  For  the  first  time  social  reform  was  the 
dominant  issue.  For  the  first  time  America 
paused,  ceased  to  shriek  prosperity,  and  began 
seriously  to  talk  of  reform. 

What  the  future  will  bring  forth  no  one  can  tell. 
America  is  undergoing  a  vast  upheaval  with  its 
protection,  its  trusts,  the  inevitable  income  tax 
which  has  to  come,  and  the  end  is  not  yet  in  sight. 
America  has  now  to  face  the  great  economic  con- 
ditions being  faced  by  all  the  rest  of  the  world 
to-day. 

For  months,  part  of  the  country  had  been  in  a 
ferment,  a  veritable  seething-pot  of  excitement 
and  emotion.  The  election  disease  in  America 
among  the  upper  classes  is  terrible.  It  is  like 
typhoid  fever ;  it  gets  worse  and  worse.  It 
reaches  a  crisis,  but  once  the  danger-point  is  passed, 
all  is  well. 

There  was  less  stir  in  Chicago,  less  howling  and 
shrieking  and  excitement  over  the  returns  of  the 
Presidential  elections  on  the  night  itself,  than  there 
was  at  the  University  football  match  the  following 
Saturday.  Of  course,  it  was  a  wet  night  when 
the  election  was  announced,  but  I  was  very  much 
struck  by  the  fact  that  the  excitement  was  mild, 
that  the  enthusiasm  was  lukewarm,  and  that  even 


1 88  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

in  the  streets  there  was  a  lack  of  interest.  We 
are  more  excited,  much  more  universally  interested 
in  an  election  than  the  populace  appear  to  be 
in  America.  It  was  extraordinary  to  compare  a 
town  in  England  with  a  town  of  equal  size  —  like 
Chicago  —  and  mark  the  difference.  Great  Brit- 
ain goes  wild.  The  people  yell,  they  sing,  they 
shriek,  they  catcall,  they  parade  the  streets,  they 
throw  their  hats  on  high,  they  play  concertinas, 
and  other  similar  musical  instruments.  Election 
night  is  a  great  night,  whether  a  by-election  or  a 
general  election  is  in  process.  Enthusiasm  is  at 
concert  pitch.  Everyone  is  interested. 

It  was  not  so  on  election  night  in  Chicago,  not 
even  at  the  famous  Club,  where  we  dined  to  hear 
the  voting  returns.  Half  the  population  neither 
knows  nor  cares  ;  much  of  it  is  foreign.  Only  the 
business  men,  the  men  likely  to  lose  or  gain  office, 
or  the  serious  thinkers  really  mind  who  is  their 
President.  These  alien  Europeans  have  perhaps 
been  politicians  in  Europe,  but  once  transported 
to  another  land,  it  takes  a  few  generations  to  cul- 
tivate interest  in  new  political  affairs. 

America  is  really  about  the  most  peaceful  spot 
on  God's  earth  to-day.  She  is  content  to  wallow 
in  her  own  contentment.  Every  newspaper  head- 
line denotes  a  social  or  political  earthquake,  but 
the  earthquakes  all  begin  and  end  in  the  head- 
lines. 


THREE  ELECTIONS  189 

The  whole  world  is  one  great  seething-pot  of 
discontent ;  but  America  is  only  beginning  to 
simmer.  Look  at  England :  the  Home  Rule  Bill 
for  Ireland ;  the  Insurance  Bill  muddle ;  the 
Woman  Suffrage  question ;  the  Imposition  on  the 
doctors ;  the  Navy.  All  these  are  big  important 
questions,  questions  of  far-reaching  reform. 

France  has  been  so  perturbed,  she  had  to  call  her 
best  to  her  aid  ;  the  declining  birth-rate  causes 
her  anxiety,  and  the  anarchistic  element  is  a  peril, 
to  say  nothing  of  her  Teuton  neighbours. 

Look  at  Germany,  and  the  lurking  socialism  in 
her  midst,  and  her  fear  of  England.  Italy  and 
Servia  have  surprised  us  all,  even  more  than  the 
Turks  have  disappointed  us.  There  is  unrest  in 
India  and  Persia  and  Egypt ;  revolution  in  sedate 
old  China.  Yea,  verily,  America,  on  the  whole,  is 
most  serene,  because  she  turns  her  face  against 
inquiry,  and  lets  trusts  and  tariffs,  the  Philippines, 
and  Mexico,  disturb  her  not.  Social  Reform  is 
the  end  sought  by  dissatisfied  masses. 

Though  she  is  now  doing  much  to  forge  ahead, 
helped  by  her  own  wonderful  resources,  America 
has  been  too  self-centred. 

As  an  example  of  the  birth  of  American  enter- 
prise we  may  quote  one  illustration,  viz.,  the  ex- 
cellent work  being  done  by  a  great  manufactur- 
ing company.  They  are  makers  of  all  kinds  of 
agricultural  machinery  in  the  United  States, 


1 9o  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

harvesters,  threshers,  ploughs,  reapers,  mowing- 
machines,  harrows,  cultivators,  etc.  The  prod- 
ucts of  this  company  are  being  shipped  even  to 
Europe,  and  in  such  places  as  the  Argentine  Re- 
public, they  monopolise  the  trade  to  the  prac- 
tical exclusion  of  all  others  in  this  particular 
branch.  Not  content  with  simply  selling  their 
products  in  the  Argentine,  they  guarantee  the  suc- 
cess and  efficiency  of  their  machinery  for  a  period 
of  time  —  one  to  two  years  —  and  send  their  own 
experts  to  see  that  the  machines  are  properly  set  up 
(which  is  vitally  important),  and  satisfactorily  oper- 
ated. Wherever  local  conditions  suggest  a  change 
for  the  betterment  in  any  machine,  these  experts 
advise  their  "home"  people,  and  the  alteration  is 
made  forthwith. 

The  principle  adopted  is  to  "suit  your  customer 
and  the  conditions  as  well"  ;  a  principle  which  it  is 
said  the  British  manufacturers  are  slow  to  adopt, 
their  idea  being  to  make  what,  and  how,  it  suits 
them  best,  and  then  to  sell  it  by  chance,  hoping  a 
man  may  want  what  they  wish  to  supply. 

For  instance,  a  big  merchant  in  Rio  de  Janeiro 
had  a  large  contract  put  in  his  hands  for  tile  pipes. 
He  asked  a  well-known  English  house  to  bid  for  it 
in  "metre  lengths";  but  that  house  refused,  say- 
ing that  their  pipe  was  all  in  three  or  four  foot 
lengths,  and  that  they  did  not  care  to  use  other 
standards,  A  German  house  made  an  offer  on  the 


THREE  ELECTIONS  191 

terms  required,  viz.,  metre  lengths,  and  secured  the 
contract. 

Great  Britain  was  bound  by  foot  rule,  and  lost. 

The  dissatisfaction  of  the  British  working-people 
is  spoiling  our  trade  somewhat,  so  the  ordinary 
American  citizen  thinks  Great  Britain  is  asleep. 
It  is  quite  true  she  sometimes  slumbers  gently. 
But  he  seems  to  forget  that  in  the  neutral  markets 
of  the  world  there  are  a  few  things  such  as  :  — 

Ships  from  Belfast,  the  Clyde,  the  Tyne,  or  the  Mersey 
Sheffield  steel 
Manchester  textiles 
Lancashire  cottons 

British  threshing-machines  and  engines 
Nottingham  lace 
Yorkshire  woollens 

Birmingham  small  arms  and  jewellery  (and  copies  of 
every  country's  specialties) 

to  say  nothing  of  biscuits  and  jams,  or  carpets. 

Yes,  after  living  through  three  elections  one 
realises  the  people  of  America  as  a  mass  are  be- 
coming more  intellectually  interested  in  politics 
and  big  outside  matters,  and  are  learning  con- 
trol at  the  same  time.  They  are  steadying  down, 
as  may  be  seen  by  the  almost  imperceptible  flut- 
ter in  the  Stock  markets  over  Wilson's  election. 

JWith  the  football  match  the  day  following  the 
election  things  were  quite  different.  I  don't  know 
when  I  have  ever  seen  such  enthusiasm,  such  wild 


192  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

abandonment,  except  at  the  Great  Northern  Ski 
Competition  in  Christiania,  the  Norwegian  Derby, 
when  men  jumped  a  hundred  and  twenty  feet  off  a 
precipice,  with  lumbersome  planks  on  their  feet, 
into  three  yards  of  snow,  and  sped  away  down  the 
mountain-side,  as  if  unmindful  of  the  fact  that 
they  had  accomplished  one  of  the  greatest  athletic 
feats  of  the  world. 

I  had  never  seen  an  American  football  match  be- 
fore, and  rather  expected  something  horrible,  but 
in  this  was  pleasurably  disappointed.  The  game 
is  rough,  it  is  true,  so  rough  that  one  wonders  if  it  is 
wise  to  encourage  all  the  brutal  instincts  of  youth. 
To  see  these  padded  young  men  tumbling  about 
like  fat  ninepins  was  amusing,  though  it  was  not  as 
disturbing  to  one's  mind  as  it  would  have  been  had 
they  not  been  so  well  protected  by  leather  wads. 
It  is  a  fine  game.  I  appreciated  it ;  but  at  the 
same  time,  I  cannot  help  feeling  that  the  youth  of 
England  has  as  much  fun  with  a  less  apparent 
danger  (more  real  danger  perhaps)  and  an  equal 
spice  of  interest  when  he  plays  Rugger  or  Soccer. 
For  the  English  cup  the  80,000  people  travel  up  to 
London,  and  as  there  are  generally  over  a  hundred 
and  twenty  thousand  folk  on  the  ground  they  go 
mad  with  excitement. 

What  I  did  like  in  America  was  the  enthusiasm. 
The  antics  of  the  cheer-leaders  on  both  sides  with 
their  megaphones,  and  the  wonderful  unison  of 


THREE   ELECTIONS  193 

shouts  led  by  this  means,  was  delightful.     Their 
cry  was 

"Chicfl-go,  Chictf-go,  Chica-go,  go 
"Go-chica,  Go-chica,  Go-Chicago,  Go 

"Hello  —  Bello  —  Chicago  — 
"Rah,  Rah,  Rah,  Rah,  Rah,  Rah,  Rah, 
"Chicago—  Yeah     (Cheer) 

(Locomotive) 

"Rah-Rah-Rah-Rah  —  Go-chic<z,  Go-chic<2  (very  slowly) 
"Rah-Rah-Rah-Rah-Go-chica,  Go-chica  (faster) 
"Rah-Rah-Rah-Rah-Go-chicfl,  Go-chica  (very  fast) 
"Yeah     Cheer) " 

Every  voice  roared  the  verse,  or  rather  the 
staccato  words,  until  the  whole  air  vibrated  ;  hats 
waved,  handkerchiefs  flourished  on  high,  and  folk, 
both  old  and  young,  became  red  in  the  face  with 
excitement,  and  hoarse  with  yelling. 

Wake  up,  John  Bull.     Wake  up,  Uncle  Sam. 

America  is  training  a  sturdy  race  of  young 
athletes,  and  she  has  a  fine  field  to  draw  upon  with 
some  fifty  millions  of  men  in  the  land,  or  nearly 
three  times  as  many  as  in  Great  Britain. 

As  a  rule  the  American-born  man  is  very  well 
made.  He  is  tall  and  straight,  with  square  shoul- 
ders, and  square  jaws.  He  becomes  grey  while 
young,  and  like  the  women  he  walks  well.  Among 
the  college  men  numbers  are  becoming  excellent 
athletes. 


I94  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

We  must  wake  up.  We  taught  the  world  games 
and  inculcated  the  love  of  sport,  and  now  the  world 
seems  on  the  way  to  beat  us  at  our  own  game. 

Roughly  speaking,  the  great  sports  and  games 
are,  in  order  of  popularity :  — 

Great  Britain  America 

Cricket  f  Baseball 

Football  l  [  Football 

Horse-racing 

Hunting 

Shooting  2     Lacrosse 

Golf 

Tennis  Tennis 

Hockey  Golf 

Polo  Hockey 

Rowing  3    Croquet 

Yachting  Rowing 

Croquet  Yachting 

Polo 

(They    barely    shoot,   hunt,   or 
horse-race  at  all.) 

Cricket  is  as  little  played  in  America  as  baseball 
is  in  England,  which  means  both  are  practically 
unknown.  Yet  each  is  really  the  national  game  of 
its  own  country. 

Why  don't  we  start  baseball  ? 

Why  does  America  not  start  cricket  ? 

As  each  can  enthral  thousands  of  people,  there 
"must  be  something  in  it." 

Traditions  of  Olympia,  beware  ! 


THREE  ELECTIONS  195 

Could  anything  be  more  beautiful  than  the 
Indian  summer  in  America  ?  October  was  simply 
perfect.  The  sun  shone  brilliantly,  the  air  was 
clear,  the  nights  were  bright  and  crisp  ;  everything, 
in  fact,  was  delightful,  except  a  few  days  when  it 
rained,  and  then,  it  came  down  as  though  it  never 
would  stop. 

Nowhere  is  the  weather  more  delightful  than  in 
America,  but  nowhere  can  it  be  more  vile  than  in  a 
blizzard,  nowhere  more  cruel  than  in  heat.  To  see 
people  struggling  at  street  corners,  helped  across 
in  batches  by  policemen,  in  a  storm,  is  amusing, 
and  to  see  them  ill  with  heat  by  the  roadside  is 
terrible. 

But  oh,  those  autumn  days,  those  Indian  summer 
days,  that  Fate  has  enabled  me  to  enjoy  in  three 
different  years.  They  are  gorgeous  ;  so  clear,  such 
colouring  on  the  trees,  such  wealth  of  tone  all  over 
the  land :  a  veritable  paradise  is  that  late  Indian 
summer,  known  to  us  as  St.  Luke's  and  St. 
Martin's. 

On  reflection,  one  of  the  things  that  has  most 
advanced  in  the  States  this  century  is  her  art.  In 
1900,  I  went  to  the  Metropolitan  Museum  in 
New  York,  to  see  what  the  American  painters  were 
doing. 

"Will  you  tell  me  where  the  American  pictures 
are  ?"  I  mildly  asked  one  of  the  custodians. 


196  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

The  man  was  not  sure,  so  waved  me  to  a  col- 
league. 

"Where  are  the  American  pictures  ?"  I  again 
asked. 

"In  such-and-such  a  room/'  he  replied. 

To  such-and-such  a  room  I  repaired,  but  I  had 
made  a  mistake.  So  back  I  went  to  the  custodian, 
and  told  him  he  had  directed  me  wrongly. 

"Such-and-such  a  room,"  he  persisted,  "is 
where  you  will  find  the  American  pictures." 

After  a  little  more  explanation  how  to  get  there, 
I  went  back ;  but  was  again  confronted  with  can- 
vasses by  Gainsborough,  Reynolds,  Hoppner, 
Lawrence,  and  Constable.  This  was  ridiculous, 
so  I  sought  another  porter. 

"Could  you  tell  me  where  the  American  pictures 
are  ?"  I  enquired. 

"Right  there,"  was  his  answer. 

"Oh,  no,  those  are  all  English." 

"We  call  them  American ;  anyhow  that's  all 
we've  got,"  he  answered.  There  were  no  American 
paintings.  The  stranger  could  not  study  American 
art,  because  there  was  no  American  art  to  study. 

I  collapsed.  One  picture,  by  George  Boughton, 
who  was  born  in  America,  but  studied  and  painted 
in  England,  was  the  only  representative  of  Ameri- 
can art  that  I  could  find.  This  is  now  all  changed* 
There  is  a  room  devoted  to  several  excellent 
American  canvasses. 


THREE  ELECTIONS 


197 


BAND  >NtCLPU*f 
F,NEL  HOURS   AT  A 


THE    AMERICAN  POUTlClAN  IS 
FOMO   OF  /\DORN»N<A   HlS   HAT 


>NCNT    ON    FOR    S»X    HOURS 


Drawn  by  W.  K.  Haselden.    Reproduced  by  permission  of  the  London  Daily  Mirror. 

How  AN  AMERICAN  PRESIDENT  is  MADE 


198  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

Among  the  chief  of  their  artists  are  Sargent, 
Abbey,  Shannon,  Whistler,  and  Boughton,  all  of 
whom  lived  and  did  their  work  in  London.  In 
their  youth  they  found  the  land  of  the  stars  and 
stripes  too  uncongenial  to  work  in.  As  lads  they 
went  to  London  or  Paris,  where  they  studied,  and 
all  finally  settled  in  London,  where  their  life's 
work  was  done,  and  their  reputations  were  made. 
This  is  a  noble  army  of  talent,  to  which  the  States 
may  be  proud  to  have  given  birth. 

Among  the  artists  who  work  well  in  their  own 
country  as  figure  painters  are  :  — John  Alexander, 
Melchers,  Frank  Benson,  Ed.  Tarbell,  Dannat, 
Alden  Weir,  Ralph  Clarkson,  a  brilliant  painter 
of  Chicago ;  Tanner,  the  negro,  who  paints  re- 
ligious canvasses  in  mystic  style  ;  and  two  women, 
Mary  Cassatt  and  Cecilia  Beaux.  Then  William 
Chase,  whose  still  life  is  preferable  to  his  portraits  ; 
Alexander  Harrison's  wonderful  seascapes ;  and 
among  landscape  painters,  Wyant,  Tryon,  and 
Childe  Hassam.  Then  there  is  the  old  conven- 
tional school  of  Innes. 

Among  the  women  painters  Miss  Lydia  Emmet 
is  not  only  charming  with  the  brush  as  a  worker, 
but  is  delightful  as  a  woman. 

Other  well-known  women  painters  and  sculptors 
are :  Lucile  Fairchild  Fuller,  Mrs.  Chase,  Miss 
Gaines,  Miss  Malvina  Hoffman,  Ellen  Rand,  and 
Mary  Foote. 


THREE  ELECTIONS  199 

Among  sculptors  are :  Borglum,  who,  while 
forceful  and  dramatic,  sometimes  lacks  repose ; 
French,  Taft,  and  of  course,  St.  Gaudens,  their 
greatest  sculptor,  who  is  now  dead. 

Then  there  are  the  Post-Impressionists,  awfully 
and  terribly  new  and  sensational. 

American  Art  has  found  her  feet.  She  is 
throwing  off  the  mantle  of  French  and  English 
learning,  and  is  rapidly  coming  to  the  fore  along 
her  own  lines.  Rich  people  to-day  subscribe  to 
buy  pictures  for  the  nation.  They  give  canvasses 
"In  Remembrance,"  or  leave  them  by  will,  more 
especially  in  Chicago ;  and  yet  in  1900  I  could 
not  find  a  collection  of  American  canvasses  in 
America.  The  country  has  at  last  awakened  to 
the  fact  that  she  has  some  artists  of  real  value, 
and  she  is  wise  enough  to  encourage  them  to  re- 
main on  her  own  shores  by  buying  their  pictures. 

Speaking  broadly,  they  are  still  too  influenced 
by  foreign  ways,  but  the  talent  is  undoubtedly  there, 
and  perhaps  in  a  few  years  America  will  have 
founded  a  real  School  of  her  own.  She  is  do- 
ing her  best  to  achieve  this  anyway. 

There  is  an  Art  School  in  Chicago,  where  nearly 
four  thousand  students  are  yearly  taking  instruc- 
tion. It  shows  how  much  these  boys  and  girls  of 
the  people  love  their  art,  when  one  learns  that  many 
of  them,  and  a  very  large  percentage  of  them,  have 
to  earn  their  own  living  to  pay  their  way.  Some 


200  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

of  them  run  out  from  twelve  o'clock  to  two,  and 
serve  food  at  the  quick-lunch  restaurants,  where, 
in  return,  they  receive  two  free  meals.  Others 
sell  newspapers  in  the  streets  before  and  after 
class,  just  as  many  of  the  University  Students  of 
both  sexes  pay  their  way  through  college  by  wash- 
ing windows,  lighting  street  lamps,  removing 
snow  from  the  sidewalks,  doing  anything  and 
everything ;  in  fact,  nothing  is  considered  infra 
dig.  Many  of  the  men,  the  biggest  physicians, 
engineers,  and  the  finest  lawyers  of  America  in 
important  positions  to-day,  by  personal  strength 
of  character  and  sheer  hard  work,  have  risen  from 
the  humblest  beginnings.  All  honour  to  them. 

On  one  occasion  I  was  having  my  finger-nails 
manicured  by  a  bright  little  American  girl,  and 
as  there  was  no  one  else  in  the  room  we  got  into 
conversation.  She  told  me  her  day's  work  was 
from  nine  o'clock  till  six  at  the  Club  where  we  were 
sitting.  She  then  went  out  and  had  a  meal ;  and 
at  half  past  seven  she  attended  a  night  school. 
She  was  such  a  superior  young  person,  that  I  was 
surprised  at  her  going  to  a  free  night  school. 
These  free  night  schools,  which  are  universal, 
are  one  of  the  great  features  of  America,  and  the 
large  attendance  shows  the  desire  for  learning. 

"And  what  do  you  do  there  ?"  I  asked.  She 
looked  rather  shy,  as  she  replied  :  — 

"Well,  I  am  married.     I  have  been  married  for 


From  The  New  New  York. 


THE  METROPOLITAN  MUSEUM 
Drawn  by  Joseph  Pennell. 


THREE   ELECTIONS  201 

four  years,  and  my  husband  is  a  young  lawyer. 
We  just  have  a  bedroom  at  a  boarding  establish- 
ment, so  that  I  have  no  housekeeping  or  worry  of 
that  kind,  and  I  earn  enough  to  support  myself, 
and  a  little  over,  at  the  Club.  He  does  the  same 
at  another  job,  and  now  that  he  has  really  taken 
his  Law  degree,  he  will  soon  get  on.  But,  you  see, 
I  have  no  learning,  and  he  has  not  enough,  so  he 
goes  with  me  to  night  school  to  learn  English 
Grammar,  Literature,  French,  and  things  like  that, 
in  order  that  we  may  be  able  to  take  our  place 
socially  when  he  has  made  a  position  for  himself." 

Wasn't  that  splendid.  These  two  young  people 
were  earning  a  few  pounds  a  week,  and  by  sheer 
determination  and  self-denial  were  devoting  every 
evening  to  gaining  knowledge  and  fitting  them- 
selves for  the  position  they  were  aiming  to  attain 
in  American  society. 

This  is  an  everyday  occurrence.  Virtues  like 
vices  come  home  to  roost. 

The  nouveaux  riches  in  America  are  becoming 
more  cultured  daily  -  -  the  nouveaux  riches  in  Eng- 
land remain  stupidly  illiterate.  Education  of  the 
soul  is  more  possible  in  poverty  than  in  wealthy 
surroundings.  Sorrow  is  like  good  nourishing 
food  :  it  strengthens  our  better  selves ;  but  most 
of  us  prefer  ice-cream  and  truffles. 


CHAPTER  IX 
WHAT  is  AN  AMERICAN  ? 

AN  officer  of  a  British  mail-boat  once  said  :  — 

"The  first  time  I  was  in  New  York  I  was  in 
the  docks  at  Brooklyn  for  five  days  before  I  heard 
one  word  of  English  spoken,  except  by  the  men  of 
our  own  ship.  The  cargo  was  entirely  handled  by 
foreigners,  mostly  Italians,  Spaniards,  or  Germans, 
and  everywhere  I  turned  I  heard  a  foreign  tongue." 

To  anyone  who  has  not  been  to  the  States  this 
sounds  preposterous ;  but  I  can  vouch  that  in  an 
enormous  district  in  Chicago  it  is  the  same  ;  that 
a  large  part  of  Boston  is  ditto,  and  yet  this  is 
English-speaking  America. 

What  is  an  American  ? 

Temperamentally  he  is  different  from  his  English 
cousin.  He  is  not  bound  by  tradition,  history, 
or  custom.  He  is  never  told  that  he  must  do  a 
thing  in  a  certain  way  —  merely  "Do  it,  and  do 
it  now." 

"Get  there"  is  his  motto.  " Keep  at  it.  Never 
tell  your  superior  it  can't  be  done ;  just  keep  at  it 
till  it  is  done." 

Morally  he  is  good ;   but  not  goody-goody. 

202 


WHAT  IS  AN  AMERICAN?  203 

Mentally  he  is  improving,  although  unfor- 
tunately inclined  to  think  disdainfully  of  the  things 
he  does  not  personally  care  for  as  not  worthy  of 
count.  He  often  thinks  hard  and  to  the  point 
rather  than  meditatively. 

His  financial  morality  is  not  on  the  whole  perhaps 
as  high  as  that  of  other  nations. 

Spiritually,  he  is  ruled  by  religion  in  any  and 
every  form  —  Catholic,  Methodist,  Christian 
Science  ;  but  he  is  not  a  man  of  visions  or  dreams, 
or  a  spiritual  idealist  in  any  way,  yet  he  is  often  a 
sentimentalist. 

The  ways  of  America  suggest  "Intensive  Living" 
(paraphrasing  "intensive  farming")  rather  than 
strenuous  living.  One  is  inclined  to  think  that 
Roosevelt's  "Strenuous  Life"  was  a  misnomer 
and  better  expressed  by  "Intensive  Life/'  "strenu- 
ous" implying  a  strained  condition  rather  than 
the  intense,  fully  lived  existence,  which  is  a  charac- 
teristic of  many  American  people.  Idleness  is 
rightly  considered  a  vice.  The  American  looks 
down  on,  and  disapproves  of,  the  "leisured  class." 
They  have  no  home  in  the  States.  It  is  no  place  for 
drones  —  they  are  driven  away  to  other  lands  by 
public  opinion.  This  is  because  America  has  not 
yet  realised  the  enormous  economic,  political,  and 
hard-working  charitable  value  of  the  leisured 
classes.  But  she  will ;  in  fact,  she  is  already  be- 
ginning to  do  so. 


204  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

America,  which  is  really  the  most  cosmopolitan 
land  on  this  earth,  -  -  for  there  is  no  nation  un- 
represented on  its  soil, --tries  hard  to  be  uncos- 
mopolitan  in  every  way,  in  its  endeavour  to  be 
English. 

One  seldom  talks  to  man  or  woman  five  minutes 
before  being  told  his  or  her  antecedents  came  from 
somewhere  in  Great  Britain.  And  yet,  if  one 
looks  at  the  names  constantly  appearing  in  lists 
of  American  citizens  in  a  newspaper,  they  hardly 
appear  British. 

MARRIAGE  LICENCES 

G.  Ajello,  Francesca  Terranova. 
Frank  Waliezek,  Wiktoria  Arnik. 
J.  Sennek,  Stefania  Hucanovich. 
Luka  Kulech,  Akilina  Lazawska. 
John  Rous,  Mary  Zdemek. 
A.  Provenzano,  G.  Maniscala. 
Joseph  Siwek,  Martha  Wanderska. 
P.  Bendachowski,  R.  Szatkowska. 
Martin  Borowski,  Caroline  Rzyniek. 
Jan  Leznak,  Upajanipa  Uhosyk. 
William  A.  Shye,  Ollie  Dyer. 
Max  Glebman,  Libbie  Breutman. 
Sett  Bastiani,  Aurelia  Raggi. 
Petter  Uruck,  Mary  Lamey. 
P.  C.  Baumeister,  Bertha  Saunders. 
Brugi  Masiliano,  Mary  Biri. 
Ferdinand  Rosen,  Johanna  Schneider. 
Ignacz  Kafka,  Mary  Bialkwazka. 
V.  Trentadue,  Gloriannina  Cardia. 
Ludwik  Sulka,  Bronislawa  Czaja. 
W.  Cholenenski,  Florence  Travinska. 


WHAT  IS  AN  AMERICAN?  205 

Jan  Jaros,  Marina  Cholewa. 
Kenneth  M.  de  Vos,  Mar  A.  Rice. 
Jan  Nicolavici,  Hervey,  111.,  Elita  Biran. 
Jan  Slawik,  Helena  Popek. 
John  J.  Gorski,  Stella  Wojciechowski. 
Frank  Zajebal,  Emma  Krai. 
S.  Falsone,  Benedotta  Corsigha. 
Nikola  Cignavac,  Sava  Njegomie. 
A.  Pawlowski,  Victoria  Czaeowska. 
D.  Weissman,  Bertha  Kacherzinsky. 
T.  Smietana,  Maryanna  Gerhacxyk. 
A.  Raikauskis,  M.  Vilinsaite. 

The  United  States  will  finally  digest  and  absorb 
the  heterogeneous  mass  of  foreigners  which  is 
now  in  their  maws,  as  they  have  done  many 
times. 

"We  welcome  all  Northern  nationalities,"  said 
an  American  ;  "they  make  good  citizens  and  readily 
take  on  the  colour  and  habits  of  our  people.  Half 
a  generation  passes  and  they  disappear,  as  it 
were,  and  their  racial  individuality  is  obliterated. 
Not  so  is  the  case  of  the  Latin  races  who  come  to 
us ;  they  are  so  very  different  in  temperament, 
customs,  and  habits  that  their  absorption  takes 
much  longer,  and  their  criminal  percentage  is 
much  larger.  However,  they  like  the  country, 
and  eventually  all  blend  in  the  huge  waves  of 
the  'American  ocean  of  life/  There  need  be  no 
fear  now.  The  worst  strain  of  this  nature  is 
over.  It  is  believed  with  good  reason  that  the 
great  variety  of  the  lower  classes  has  been  a  safe- 


206  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

guard ;  Nature  playing  one  nationality  against 
another,  and  thus  preventing  any  danger  that 
might  arise  from  one  class  of  possibly  dis- 
satisfied immigrants." 

The  modern  American  is  the  product  of  three 
hundred  years  of  American  civilisation,  freedom 
of  thought,  and  living.  He  is  a  race  unto  himself. 

What  a  pity  it  is  that  some  Americans  start 
conversation  with  an  Englishman,  feeling  a  certain 
resentment  of  the  poor  Britisher's  assumed  supe- 
riority. 

There  is  no  "assumed  superiority."  There 
may  be  a  difference  of  manner,  a  difference  of 
viewpoint ;  but  nothing  more. 

The  Britisher,  on  the  other  hand,  often  expects 
to  find  "aggressive  swagger"  in  the  American, 
and  looks  for  it. 

If  only  these  two  people  would  forget  the  na- 
tionality of  the  other,  they  would  be  even  better 
friends  than  they  are.  The  temperamental  dif- 
ference is  slight ;  otherwise  there  is  no  difference 
of  consequence.  Englishmen  dive  their  hands 
into  their  pockets, —  an  idle,  lazy-looking  habit, — 
and  Americans  keep  theirs  energetically  free ;  the 
hands  and  the  pockets  are  the  same,  only  the  out- 
ward appearance  of  manner  differs.  The  same 
applies  to  Canada,  who  is  most  patriotic  unless  we 
foolishly  call  her  "one  of  our  possessions,"  and 


WHAT  IS  AN  AMERICAN? 


207 


Z?roaw  6y  »^.  K.  Haselden.    Reproduced  by  permission  of  the  London  Daily  Mirror. 

OPENING  SCENE  AT  THE  AMERICAN  NATIONAL  THEATER 


208  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

then  she  is  furious,  and  no  wonder.  Wives  are 
not  chattels,  and  colonies  are  not  possessions. 

The  United  States  itself  occupies  a  tract  of  land 
extending  from  Old  Mexico  in  the  South  to  Canada 
in  the  North ;  from  the  Pacific  on  the  West  to 
the  Atlantic  in  the  East,  an  area  of  three  million 
twenty-seven  thousand  square  miles.  On  this 
nearly  a  hundred  million  people  from  every  quarter 
of  the  globe  have  planted  themselves.  Each  race, 
each  religion,  each  colour,  has  left  its  mark,  and 
that  conglomerate  mass  makes  up  the  American 
of  to-day.  They  have  driven  out  the  Aborigines, 
and  the  Indian  is  practically  dead  ;  he  was  of 
pure  breed,  but  could  not  stand  the  onrushing 
tide.  British  blood  once  held  sway ;  but  the  old 
stock  on  which  so  many  nationalities  have  been 
grafted  has  lost  its  individuality  under  the  more 
modern  growths.  There  are  Puritanical  strains ; 
Eastern  superstition ;  Latin  poesie ;  Saxon  love 
of  music ;  German  doggedness ;  Scandinavian 
truth  and  honesty. 

If  the  blood  corpuscles  of  the  free-born  American 
were  tested,  they  would  probably  contain  germs  of 
a  hundred  different  races  all  commingled  into 
a  somewhat  olive  skinned,  dark-haired  race. 

In  Europe  the  population  per  square  mile  in 
1907  was  about  one  hundred  and  six  persons.  In 
America  it  was  only  nine. 

America  is  rather  like  a  pumpkin  pie ;  it  has  so 


WHAT  IS  AN  AMERICAN?  209 

many  ingredients  it  is  hard  to  discover  where  the 
real  pumpkin  flavour  lies. 

One  moment  it  is  dressed  in  furs  like  an  Esquimau 
in  the  North,  and  the  next  in  cottons  on  the  shore 
of  the  Mississippi. 

There  is  a  distinct  American  type  appearing, 
virile,  strong,  tough,  self-reliant.  Just  glance  at 
the  pictures  of  the  new  Senators  and  Representa- 
tives in  Munsey's  Magazine.  They  are  one  and 
all  men  of  broad,  intellectual  brows,  high  foreheads, 
large  noses,  strong  mouths,  nearly  all  have  clean- 
shaven faces,  and  every  single  one  has  that  thick- 
set, broad,  determined,  strong-willed  jaw  —  the 
American  jaw,  one  might  call  it ;  it  is  becoming 
a  national  feature.  It  must  be  a  finely  lucrative 
country  for  steel-grinders  or  razor  makers,  for 
every  man  shaves. 

The  men  of  this  new  American  race  come  from 
all  parts,  and  yet  that  jaw  is  distinctive  in  every 
picture :  — 

James  A.  Gorman,  from  New  York. 
Thomas  P.  Gore  (blind),  from  Oklahoma. 
Oscar  W.  Underwood,  from  Alabama. 
William  Hughes,  from  New  Jersey. 
Gilbert  M.  Hitchcock,  from  Nebraska. 
Hoke  Smith,  from  Georgia. 
Luke  Lea,  from  Tennessee. 
John  Sharp  Williams,  from  Mississippi. 
Francis  G.  Newlands,  from  Nevada. 
G.  Martin,  from  Virginia. 


210  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

Furnifold  M.  Simmons,  from  North  Carolina. 

Senator  Smith,  from  Maryland. 

Thetus  W.  Sims  from  Tennessee. 

James  T.  Lloyd,  from  Missouri. 

Albert  S.  Burleson,  from  Texas. 

John  N.  Garner,  from  Texas. 

A.  Mitchell  Palmer  from  Pennsylvania. 

W.  S.  Hammond,  from  Minnesota. 

Henry  D.  Clayton,  from  Alabama. 

Wm.  C.  Adamson,  from  Georgia. 

Robert  L.  Henry,  from  Texas. 

Carter  Glass,  from  Virginia. 

Lemuel  P.  Padgett,  from  Tennessee. 

John  A.  Moon,  from  Tennessee. 

Fitzgerald,  from  New  York. 

James  Hay,  from  Virginia. 

This  particular  American  type  of  jaw  is  not  as 
noticeable  among,  say,  the  great  doctors,  like  Dr. 
John  Murphy  of  Chicago,  or  Dr.  William  and  Dr. 
Charles  Mayo  of  Minnesota,  or  Dr.  Alexis  Carrel 
of  Nobel  Prize  fame,  all  first-class  men. 

An  Englishwoman  who  has  wandered  from 
New  York  to  Niagara,  to  Chicago,  St.  Louis, 
Kansas  City,  El  Paso,  San  Antonio,  Galveston, 
New  Orleans,  Washington,  Annapolis,  Philadelphia, 
who  has  stayed  in  beautiful  homes  both  in  cities 
and  on  country-sides,  may  be  said  to  know  a  little 
bit  of  America,  but  stay  — 

"What  do  you  think  of  Boston  ?" 

"What  do  you  think  of  California  ?" 

"What  do  you  think  of  America  ?" 


WHAT  IS  AN  AMERICAN?  211 

It  might  as  well  be  asked,  What  do  you  think  of 
the  sun  or  the  moon  ? 

America  is  hot  and  cold,  educated  and  illiterate, 
rich  and  poor,  and  the  puzzled  stranger's  brain 
cannot  "think"  of  it  —  anyway,  not  all  at  once. 
It  can  only  receive  impressions  in  a  sort  of  snapshot, 
kaleidoscope  form,  and  stutter  :  — 

"I  like  it,  the  people  interest  me,  and  hence  I 
come  back  again  and  again,  and  hope  to  come 
many  times  more  to  make  your  acquaintance 
further,  and  correct  any  wrong  impressions  I  have 
formed  by  the  way.  No  country  in  all  my  travels 
has  interested  me  so  much  as  America." 

The  entrance  to  an  American  city  is  almost  as 
ugly  as  the  entrance  to  London ;  no,  not  quite, 
because  our  miles  of  rails  which  run  over  house- 
tops and  chimney-stacks  are  beyond  description 
horrible ;  —  those  dingy  back  gardens,  with 
tumble-down  chicken-houses,  and  endless  washings 
hanging  out  to  dry,  those  squalid  streets,  and  our 
dead  dull  skies.  Yet  Americans  love  our  chimney 
pots  because  they  have  so  few  of  them  in  their  own 
land  of  central  heating. 

One  shudders  to  think  of  the  foreigner's  first 
impression  when  landing  on  our  shores :  Ghastly 
landing-stages  and  grewsome  custom-houses  ;  and 
the  oldest  railway  carriages  always  seem  to  be 
palmed  off  on  these  trips.  In  fact  the  worst  rail- 


212  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

way  travelling  in  England  is  generally  from  the 
coast.  Once  started,  the  peace  and  beauty  and 
calm  of  the  rich  English  pasture-land  unfolds  it- 
self, with  its  splendid  trees  and  broad  green  mead- 
ows ;  its  villages  with  their  pretty  cottages  and 
flower-gardens  nestling  round  the  church,  that  has 
sent  forth  her  benedictions  for  centuries ;  ay,  and 
in  many  a  God's  acre  are  buried  the  forbears  of 
those  early  settlers  in  New  England. 

Then  follows  that  awful  entry  to  our  great 
metropolis. 

'Tis  a  hideous  entrance,  a  melancholy  introduc- 
tion to  that  first  view  of  London,  and  yet  how 
Americans  love  us  when  they  get  to  know  us,  and 
return  again  and  again  to  our  shores,  until  we 
become  "an  English  habit". 

The  "American  habit"  must  be  taking  pos- 
session of  me ;  I  feel  in  my  blood  that  I  shall  so 
constantly  be  to  and  fro,  America  will  become  my 
habit,  and  not  a  bad  habit  either. 

With  all  the  wealth  in  America  I  often  ask  my- 
self if  the  populace  are  any  better  off  ?  The 
country  is  about  as  large  as  Europe ;  it  has  more 
resources,  and  it  has  a  sixth  of  the  population  of 
Europe  ;  but  is  America  really  better  off  ? 

The  rate  of  wage  is  higher ;  the  rate  of  every- 
thing else  is  higher,  too.  Consequently,  propor- 
tionately the  position  is  much  the  same. 

Wake  up,  Uncle  Sam ;  you  are  really  not  quite 


WHAT  IS  AN  AMERICAN?  213 

such  a  good  investment  as  you  dream  you 
are. 

It  makes  one's  heart  ache  to  learn  of  the  num- 
ber of  immigrants  who  go  under.  Look  at  the 
poor  Italian.  He  arrives  with  his  family  in  the 
west ;  he  cannot  speak  a  word  of  the  language, 
he  is  a  simple  person  from  a  simple  land,  he  is 
accustomed  to  sunshine  and  warmth ;  the  cold  of 
the  winter  is  an  absolute  pain  to  his  thin  blood. 
He  falls  into  the  hands  of  the  sweater ;  he  is  farmed 
out  by  hundreds,  is  shipped  off  to  God  knows 
where,  and  he  often  becomes  a  veritable  slave  in 
the  hands  of  his  employer.  But  for  the  constant 
supply  of  this  cheap  labour,  working  at  starvation 
prices,  the  workshops  of  the  States  could  not 
be  fed  to-day.  The  numbers  of  aliens  who  be- 
come insane  is  increasing  at  such  a  rate,  probably 
due  to  the  terrible  straits  to  which  many  of 
them  are  subjected  in  the  first  years  after 
landing,  that  the  States  have  seriously  begun  to 
consider  this  problem  of  alien  insanity ;  and  none 
too  soon. 

So  long  as  people  can  borrow  umbrellas  they  put 
off  laying  by  for  a  rainy  day. 

Every  day  got  through  without  spending  money, 
and  every  day  when  one  learns  something,  is  a  day 
of  value.  Any  fool  can  go  out  and  spend  money ; 
but  it  takes  a  wise  man  to  keep  it.  Truly  a  penny 
saved  is  a  penny  gained. 


214  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

"The  averge  cost  of  maintenance  per  annum  for  each 
patient  in  our  State  hospitals  exceeds  $250,  and  as  there  are 
thousands  of  alien  insane  patients,  we  begin  to  realise  the 
annual  cost  of  these  unfortunates  to  our  taxpayers.  As 
the  average  hospital  life  of  the  insane  patient  is  probably 
upwards  of  ten  years,  the  total  cost  of  maintenance  runs  into 
millions. 

"The  problem  of  the  alien  insane  presents  a  curious 
anomaly.  The  federal  government  alone  decides  who  shall 
enter  this  country,  but  makes  practically  no  provision  for 
those  entering  who  become  incapacitated  through  mental 
deficiencies.  The  entire  burden  of  the  care  falls  on  the 
several  states.  Moreover,  the  United  States  alone  has  the 
right  to  deport  the  insane,  and  this  only  within  the  three 
years'  limit  of  the  federal  law,  and  from  causes  arising  before 
landing.  The  states  may  only  repatriate  insane  patients 
when  they  go  voluntarily."  .  .  . 

"During  the  fiscal  year  ended  Septr.  30,  '12,  the  State 
of  N.  York  returned  to  foreign  countries  through  the  U.  S. 
Immigration  Service  and  its  own  efforts,  1,171  insane,  as 
against  784  for  the  previous  year,  and  to  other  States  582 
insane  as  against  342,  a  total  of  1,753  f°r  X9I2>  as  against  a 
total  of  1,126  for  1911,  an  increase  of  55.7  per  cent.  The  re- 
sult of  this  work  should  reduce,  during  the  coming  year,  the 
abnormal  increase  in  recent  years  in  our  insane  hospital 
population.  It  also  indicates  in  some  degree,  what  relief 
should  be  experienced  by  the  taxpayers  of  New  York  & 
other  states  if  the  entire  problem  of  the  alien  insane  should 
be  adequately  solved,  through  appropriate  federal  legisla- 


Sweated  foreign  labour  is  a  peril  to  the  country, 
and  a  disgrace  to  the  employers.  People  work 
in  overcrowded  rooms,  and  few  enquire  into 
these  matters.  Municipal  councils  are  retrograde 


WHAT  IS  AN  AMERICAN?  215 

and  often  dishonest.  Birth  certificates  are  not 
enforced  ;  infant  mortality  and  child  labour  are 
all  subjects  that  require  to  be  taken  seriously  in 
hand.  The  women  are  educating  themselves 
miles  ahead  of  the  men  in  these  directions,  and 
again  I  say,  they  are  the  proper  persons  to  inspect 
and  regulate  for  the  abolition  of  these  evils. 

It  is  rarely  that  aliens  of  the  first  generation 
succeed.  It  is  their  children  who  have  become 
Americanised  in  the  public  schools  and  the  free 
night  schools,  who  make  the  move.  And  it  is 
their  children  again  who  become  established  as 
American  citizens. 

It  is  an  amazing  country.  But  let  us  pause  : 
A  million  people  are  entering  America  every 
year.  Many,  many  rise,  and  are  successful ;  and 
yet,  withal,  the  percentage  is  small.  Almost  as 
many  fail. 

Up  to  now  the  alien  influx  has  been  absorbed  by 
the  American,  but  there  are  distinct  signs  that 
the  American  is  in  danger  of  being  absorbed  by 
the  alien  to-day.  European  socialism  is  in  the 
air.  Mob  rule  is  asserting  itself,  syndicalism  is 
working  steadily  towards  upheaval.  The  darkies 
are  discontented,  and  multiplying,  and  great  prob- 
lems lie  before  the  United  States  at  no  distant  date. 

The  people  who  enjoy  the  greatest  freedom  in 
the  world  live  under  the  British  flag.  There  is 
less  corruption  in  Canada  near  by  than  in  the 


216  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

States.  Canada  is  far  greater  in  size.  America 
is  quite  alive  to  these  facts,  and  the  people  of 
the  United  States  are  emigrating  into  the  north- 
west of  Canada  in  tens  of  thousands ;  in  fact, 
at  the  rate  of  a  hundred  thousand  a  year.  Scan- 
dinavians who  went  to  the  North-West  of  the 
States  some  years  ago,  and  have  succeeded  in 
improving  their  land  in  such  a  way  that  they  can 
sell  it  at  a  profit,  are  doing  so.  With  this  small 
sum  of  money,  and  their  sons  growing  up,  they 
are  crossing  the  border  to  the  West,  to  Manitoba, 
Alberta,  and  Saskatchewan.  A  hundred  and 
twenty  million  pounds  have  left  the  States  for 
Canada  in  six  years  in  this  way. 

If  the  lift  sticks,  don't  wait ;  run  up  the  stairs, 
it  saves  time  —  in  fact  try  something  else ;  that 
is  what  these  men  have  done.  They  go  there 
with  a  knowledge  of  the  climate,  and  understand 
the  possibilities  of  the  land,  and  with  a  certain 
sum  of  money,  and  having  already  learnt  the 
English  language,  they  prove  in  every  way  ex- 
cellent immigrants.  At  the  present  moment,  there 
are  almost  as  many  people  entering  Canada  from 
America  as  there  are  from  the  ocean  ports. 

These  facts  speak  for  themselves. 

They  say  that  the  United  States  do  not  offer 
such  vast  opportunities  now  as  formerly,  and 
that  these  men  see  greater  possibilities  of  success 
under  the  British  flag. 


WHAT  IS  AN  AMERICAN?  217 

There  are  lots  of  Americans  who  think  that  God 
Almighty  made  the  United  States  perfect,  and  that 
everything  else  is  a  misfit.  Patriotism  is  a  fine 
thing  when  it  can  see,  but  it  must  not  be  blind. 

They  progressed  well  while  they  re-stocked  with 
Anglo-Saxon  or  Scandinavian  blood  ;  but  now  that 
they  are  being  swamped  with  the  Latin  blood  of 
the  south,  the  Jew,  the  Greek,  and  the  Pole,  what 
will  happen  ? 

What  becomes  of  the  American  loafer,  the  throw- 
back of  every  land  ? 

Of  course  it  is  always  the  survival  of  the  fittest. 
When  starvation  faces  a  man  unless  he  works,  it 
is  extraordinary  how  he  will  buck  up  and  do  things. 
The  pauper  is  not  pampered  in  America  as  he  is 
in  England.  The  men  who,  from  desire  or  force 
of  circumstances,  become  idlers,  either  sink  into 
the  criminal  classes  or  degenerate  into  tramps  or 
"hoboes." 

The  tramp  has  become  rather  an  institution 
in  America,  resented  by  policeman,  farmer, 
railroad  brakeman,  and  village  constable  alike. 
Without  home  or  family,  although  frequently  a 
deserter  from  both,  without  money,  decent  cloth- 
ing, self-respect,  or  morals,  too  lazy  to  be  a  real 
criminal,  he  wanders  about  the  earth,  preying  upon 
defenceless  homes  for  his  food,  and  sometimes  com- 
mitting petty  deeds  of  violence.  These  people 
die  of  disease  in  the  ditch,  or  are  constantly  killed 


21 8  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

by  falling  from  railroad  trains  in  their  attempt 
to  steal  rides  from  town  to  town,  by  hanging  on 
to  the  cars. 

There  are  few  workhouses  or  charitable  institu- 
tions to  pander  to  them  or  give  them  a  night's 
shelter  free.  The  tramp  either  has  to  do  some- 
thing for  himself,  or  else  give  up  the  job  of  living 
and  die. 

There  is  immense  poverty  in  the  larger  cities 
of  America.  It  is  extraordinary  to  a  stranger  to 
see  the  poverty  and  squalor,  and  the  awful  condi- 
tion of  the  slums  of  some  of  the  big  cities.  They 
are  not  safe  after  dark.  Struggling,  starving 
humanity  is  a  dangerous  element  to  contend  with. 
Many  of  these  undesirables  are  shipped  back  again 
to  their  own  lands.  They  have  proved  no  good  in 
a  new  country,  and  the  old  ones  have  to  take  them 
back.  I  am  more  and  more  convinced  that  people 
with  grit  and  determination,  with  character  and 
pluck,  will  get  on  just  as  well,  ay,  even  better,  in 
their  own  lands,  than  they  will  across  the  seas. 
It  is  all  a  matter  of  work  and  character  and  tak- 
ing an  opportunity  when  it  comes  ;  for  it  does 
not  in  the  least  matter  in  what  country  a  man 
lives. 

The  day  of  the  United  States  as  a  great  immi- 
gration field  seems  to  be  waning.  Canada  offers 
better  opportunities.  Politically,  the  upheaval 
in  its  change  of  President  every  four  years  is  a 


WHAT  IS  AN  AMERICAN?  219 

detriment.     In  Canada  there  is  nothing  of  that 
kind  to  contend  with. 

Is  America's  greatest  prosperity  passed  ?  Is 
well-governed  republicanism  tottering  ?  Is  mob- 
rule  finding  its  feet  ? 

There  is  a  certain  club  in  New  York  called  the 
City  Club,  which  does  excellent  civic  work,  and 
every  Saturday  the  members  give  an  interesting 
luncheon  to  men  and  women  to  meet  some  par- 
ticular star.  It  was  my  good  fortune  to  be  present 
on  an  occasion  when  Mrs.  Alice  Stebbins  Wells  of 
Los  Angeles,  California,  the  first  woman  to  serve 
upon  the  police  force  in  America,  was  present. 
Mine  host  was  Mr.  Bleecker  Van  Wagenen,  and 
an  interesting  gathering  it  proved. 

This  good  lady  who  entered  the  force  in  1910, 
was  appointed  for  life  under  the  Civil  Service.  She 
was  a  nice-looking  woman  with  dark  hair  plainly 
parted,  pleasant  manners,  wore  a  snuff-coloured 
cloth  uniform  with  a  darker  coloured  braid,  and 
the  police  badge  on  her  breast.  She  advocated 
women  being  added  to  the  police  administra- 
tion in  America.  She  spoke  of  the  police  as  "a 
peace  arm"  ;  said  that  their  duty  was  to  prevent 
crime  by  enforcing  law  and  order,  and  told  us  how 
in  her  plain  clothes  she  went  to  the  music  halls, 
the  skating-rinks,  the  cinematographs,  and  all 
places  of  public  entertainment  in  California  in 


220  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

pursuit  of  her  work.  Every  city,  she  said,  should 
provide  women  policemen,  to  whom  other  women 
could  go  in  distress.  She  regretted  that  the  saloon 
had  always  had  such  a  large  influence  in  public  life. 
She  pointed  out  that  it  was  often  the  only  social  club 
where  a  man  could  go  to  cash  his  cheques,  sit  in 
warmth  and  comfort,  and  read  the  papers.  She 
suggested  more  "dry  states,"  and  that  coffee  saloons 
should  be  made  more  attractive.  She  told  us  that 
in  some  places  women  formerly  used  to  get  as 
much  as  fifty  per  cent  of  the  profit  on  the  amount 
of  drinks  they  could  sell  during  the  evening. 

She  dwelt  on  the  fact  that  the  children  of  the 
future  would  be  more  moral  and  more  intelligent ; 
and  certainly  America  is  waking  up  for  a  great 
battle  against  the  social  evil,  from  which  more 
good  women  than  women  of  the  underworld  are 
suffering.  If,  she  said,  this  cannot  be  effected  on 
a  legal  basis,  it  must  be  done  on  a  moral  one. 
She  was  very  earnest  and  modest  in  her  delivery, 
and  one  felt  she  was  the  type  of  woman  that  would 
do  good  whatever  her  part  in  life  might  be. 

This  was  the  first  woman  policeman  in  America, 
although  there  are  several  in  Europe  and  Canada. 
England  lately  dressed  up  a  policeman  in  female 
attire  to  "catch  a  flirt."  Counterfeit  coin  is  poor 
currency.  No  doubt  women  policemen  will  become 
universal  before  long. 

Suddenly  a  most  awful  noise  rent  the  air.     The 


WHAT  IS  AN  AMERICAN?  221 

very  club-house  seemed  to  tremble.  "What  is 
that? "I  asked. 

"They  are  blasting  rocks  to  get  at  new  founda- 
tions near  by." 

"Blasting  rocks  !"  I  exclaimed  in  amazement. 

"Yes,  they  are  excavating  for  the  new  subway ; 
that  is  all."  And  they  were  not  using  ergite  or 
there  would  have  been  less  noise. 

It  certainly  did  seem  an  extraordinary  thing  to 
be  sitting  at  luncheon  in  the  centre  of  New  York 
and  to  hear  blasting  going  on  underneath  or  next 
door,  just  as  complacently  as  if  one  were  in  the 
wilds.  But  New  York  stands  on  a  solid  bed  of 
rock,  and  that  is  why  they  are  enabled  to  build 
such  enormously  high  sky-scrapers  without  fear 
of  their  being  blown  over  in  a  blizzard,  because 
with  grappling  irons  they  can  fasten  them  to  the 
rocks  themselves. 

Is  it  prophetic  that  the  bell  of  Liberty  is  badly 
cracked  ? 

The  Panama-Pacific  Exhibition  of  1915  wanted 
Philadelphia  to  lend  them  the  precious  relic,  and 
this  lead  to  the  discovery  of  its  rent.  The  glass 
case  was  opened,  and  lo  !  the  crack  was  found  to 
have  increased  badly  since  its  last  inspection.  The 
Sons  and  Daughters  of  the  Revolution  rose.  "  The 
bell  must  not  go  to  San  Francisco,  and  the  bell 
must  be  mended,"  was  their  mandate. 


222  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

These  Conservative  Societies,  these  descendants 
of  old  times,  are  working  hard  to  keep  up  tradition, 
to  ferret  out  ancestry,  to  uphold  old  customs,  to 
maintain  a  better  standard,  and  an  older  courtesy 
in  their  adopted  land. 

In  1900,  I  never  seemed  to  go  to  a  single  enter- 
tainment in  which  were  not  dozens  of  women 
decorated  with  badges,  on  the  bars  of  which  were 
stamped  the  names  of  their  various  ancestors. 
Democratic  America  revels  in  titles  and  decorations. 
And  the  women  who  could  not  decorate  themselves 
as  Daughters  of  the  Revolution,  wore  badges 
representing  the  different  clubs  to  which  they  be- 
longed ;  now  one  seldom  sees  this. 

Every  Freemason  loves  a  decoration.  Nearly 
every  American  covets  a  button  or  a  title.  Blue 
ribbon  is  for  temperance ;  white  ribbon  for 
Purity;  Grand  Army  button  worn  by  survivors 
of  the  Northern  Army  in  the  Civil  War;  Red, 
White,  and  Blue  Aztec  Society  button,  worn  by 
direct  male  descendants  of  the  officers  of  the  army 
in  the  Mexican  War.  Then  of  course  there  are 
election  buttons,  bicycle  club  buttons,  and  many 
others ;  and  if  a  button  cannot  be  found,  the 
American  flag  can  always  be  used  as  a  pocket- 
handkerchief.  The  United  States  Govern- 
ment gives  but  one  decoration,  and  that  is  for 
gallant  and  distinguished  conduct  in  which  life  is 
imperilled. 


WHAT  IS  AN  AMERICAN? 


223 


Crattw  by  W.  K.  Haselden.    Reproduced  by  permission  of  the  London  Daily  Mirror. 

ALL  OUT  FOR  THE  DUKE 


224  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

Any  man  elected  as  a  member  of  either  house  of 
the  National  Congress  or  State  Legislature  is  en* 
titled  to  be  called  " Honourable"  by  courtesy. 
The  old  Colonel  of  the  Southern  Confederacy  is 
dying  out,  but  new  Colonels,  who  have  never  been 
under  fire,  have  taken  his  place.  This  is  really  a 
courtesy  title  given  promiscuously  by  a  man's 
friends.  There  is  little  army  but  there  are  many 
Colonels. 

In  1912  when  the  National  Society  of  the 
Daughters  of  the  Revolution  had  been  formed  about 
twelve  years,  there  were  seventy-five  thousand 
active  members,  constituting  nearly  fifteen  hundred 
chapters ;  each  state  had  its  regular  organisation, 
and  the  headquarters  of  the  National  Society  had 
raised  unto  itself  a  magnificent  building  in  Wash- 
ington. It  really  is  a  magnificent  building.  Each 
state  has  its  room,  and  each  state  has  decorated 
its  own  room  according  to  its  own  taste.  It  has  a 
fine  lecture  hall  in  which  meetings  are  constantly 
held,  and  altogether,  the  Daughters  are  a  very 
energetic  body  both  in  their  club,  and  outside, 
where  their  work  is  to  mark  historic  buildings,  and 
generally  keep  aflame  the  memory  of  the  American 
Revolution. 

There  is  an  even  more  select  body  of  women 
known  as  the  Colonial  Dames,  and  the  proudest 
position  a  woman  can  attain  is  to  be  admitted 
into  this  august  body  of  British  descent.  It  is  the 


WHAT  IS  AN  AMERICAN?  225 

same  idea  as  the  old  clanship  of  Scotland,  or  the 
county  records  of  England. 

How  these  dear  American  dames  love  to  preserve 
their  battle-fields.  They  are  almost  as  important 
as  the  cemeteries.  We  have  so  many  battle-fields 
in  Europe  ;  yet  some  of  them  have  been  fought  over 
several  times.  But  they  hardly  look  like  scenes 
of  gore  to-day,  for  the  ploughman  has  done  his 
work.  Honour  has  been  gained,  and  agricultural 
prosperity  has  taken  the  place  of  bloody  strife. 
Every  possible  excuse  to  preserve  a  battle-field 
brings  joy  to  the  eyes  of  the  elite  in  the  States. 

At  heart  America  is  conservative,  at  heart  Great 
Britain  is  democratic,  though  both  pretend  to  be 
otherwise. 

In  education  we  English  are  napping,  and  often 
live  on  empty  tradition.  We  are  too  fond  of 
teaching  our  boys  (in  those  very  conservative  and 
extremely  private  institutions  we  call  Public 
Schools)  to  be  gentlemen.  English  gentlemen  — 
yes,  we  are  proud  of  our  English  gentlemen  ;  they 
—  and  their  clothes  —  have  long  been  models  for 
the  world,  but  we  must  teach  them  something 
more.  We  must  let  the  scholars  swim  in  the 
classics,  and  bathe  the  others  in  modern  science, 
modern  languages,  modern  everything.  We  must 
equip  our  boys  for  professions  and  trades,  so 
that  when  they  leave  Eton,  Harrow,  Charter- 
Q 


226  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

house,  or  Winchester,  at  seventeen  or  eighteen 
years  of  age,  they  have  already  spent  a  couple 
of  years  along  the  lines  of  their  future  career. 
As  it  is,  we  turn  them  out  in  thousands  every 
autumn,  fine  young  Englishmen,  but  quite  unable 
to  earn  half-a-crown  a  week.  Heaven  forbid  they 
should  ever  forget  to  be  gentlemen,  but  let  them 
take  in  some  of  the  practical  side  of  science,  en- 
gineering, law,  medicine,  literature ;  anything,  in 
fact,  towards  which  they  have  a  leaning,  and  in 
which  they  should  be  encouraged. 

Being  a  gentleman  will  not  earn  a  living  any  more 
than  earning  a  living  will  make  a  gentleman,  and  a 
man  has  got  to  learn  that  the  road  to  pleasure  is 
much  shorter  than  the  road  back. 

As  I  suggested  to  the  Woman's  Club  in  Chicago, 
we  must  do  more  to  exchange  our  students,  and 
professors  also. 

America  wants  more  gentlemen,  we  want  more 
workers.  Is  it  not  possible,  when  the  autumn  ses- 
sions begin  every  year,  for  the  headmasters  of  large 
educational  departments  in  each  country  to  have 
ready  a  list  of  boys  who  wish  to  cross  the  ocean  for 
one  to  three  years.  How  splendid  for  our  British 
youth  to  go  to  those  mighty  steel  works  at  Bethle- 
hem and  to  learn  engineering  at  the  University  of 
Lehigh  next  door.  Although  literature  and  science 
are  both  taught,  ninety  per  cent  of  the  men  at  Le- 
high are  taking  the  engineering  four  years'  course. 


WHAT  IS  AN  AMERICAN?  227 

How  good  for  the  American  boys  to  come  over  to 
our  Vickers',  Maxim's,  Armstrongs',  or  to  work  at 
our  engineering  schools  in  Liverpool,  Birming- 
ham, Sheffield,  or  Leeds. 

This  is  a  stupendous  question.  We  can  help 
one  another.  Cecil  Rhodes  has  endowed  scholar- 
ships at  Oxford  for  American  students.  No 
American  has  endowed  anything,  so  far  as  I  know, 
for  British-born  subjects  in  the  United  States. 
Here  is  a  chance  for  a  millionaire  to  do  something 
with  his  money.  Professors  and  students  should 
be  exchanged  continually. 

We  ought  to  know  one  another  better.  We 
want  to  know  one  another  more,  and  yet  many  of 
us  do  not  understand  how  to  set  about  it.  Our 
technical  schools  resemble  the  American  schools, 
but  our  Eton  and  Harrow  boys  do  not  care  to  go  to 
our  technical  schools,  although  they  would  gladly 
attend  those  in  a  new  land,  with  new  ideas,  new 
teachings,  new  inspirations.  Parents  feed  boys  and 
drop  sweetmeats  into  their  mouths,  and  then 
boys  expect  when  they  are  grown  up  that  the 
world  will  do  the  same  ;  but  it  won't. 

Many  English  lads  are  unable  to  choose  a  trade 
or  profession  because  they  really  know  nothing 
about  trades  and  professions.  The  school  makes 
no  effort  to  enlighten  them.  It  would  be  invalu- 
able to  hold  weekly  classes  for  the  older  boys  where 
these  subjects  might  be  suggested,  and  all  details 


228  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

of  examinations,  expenses,  and  possibilities  ex- 
plained. Then  the  lad  would  have  a  chance  of 
making  up  his  mind,  and  spend  his  last  year 
at  school  at  appropriate  work,  specialising  in 
fact.  The  best  men  and  women  are  the  progeny 
of  thoroughly  selfish  parents.  Unselfish  parents 
heap  coals  of  fire  on  their  own  heads. 

Again  let  me  say  that  America  wants  our  cul- 
tured men  ;  we  want  her  workers  ;  each  has  much 
to  learn  from  the  other,  so  interchange  would  be  of 
the  utmost  advantage  to  both.  The  present  sys- 
tems of  education  of  the  two  countries  are  dissimi- 
lar, both  have  good  and  bad  points. 

In  England  our  better  class  boys  go  to  — 

Preparatory  Schools  (fees  averaging,  say,  $500)  from  eight 
to  twelve  years  of  age,  and  there  learn  the  groundwork  of 
everything. 

Public  Schools  (fees  from  $500  to  $1000)  from  thirteen 
years  of  age  to  eighteen. 

'Varsity,  between  eighteen  and  nineteen  years  of  age. 
Average  expenses  at  Oxford  and  Cambridge  are  about  $1500. 
It  can  be  done  for  less,  or  much  can  be  spent. 

Much  of  education  is  occupied  in  eradicating 
individualism,  much  of  after  life  in  eradicating 
education  and  fostering  individualism.  Once  away 
from  School,  boys  try  to  be  original,  and  girls 
struggle  to  be  conventional. 

Many  boys  go  to  a  crammer  for  a  few  months 
after  leaving  their  Public  School,  because  the 
education  is  stupidly  not  arranged  to  follow  on 


WHAT  IS  AN  AMERICAN?  229 

sufficiently  for  an  average  boy  to  enter  the  Uni- 
versity direct.  Degrees  are  generally  taken  at 
twenty-one  or  twenty-two  years  of  age ;  those  in 
medicine,  not  till  twenty-five. 

Our  County  Council  school  children  receive  their 
education  free  from  five  to  about  fourteen  years  of 
age,  and  after  that,  technical  schools  can  be  attended. 

Now  in  America,  children  of  every  class  go  to  the 
Public  School  equivalent  to  the  County  Council 
school,  which  gives  free  education  from  five  to 
sixteen  years  of  age.  The  sons  of  the  President 
and  of  the  latest  immigrant  may  sit  side  by  side. 

Although  the  writer  feels  this  system  is  quite  as 
bad  as  the  over-conservative  privacy  of  the  expen- 
sive English  public  school,  yet  the  American  edu- 
cation is  probably  better  to-day  than  in  our  pri- 
vate schools,  and  certainly  more  practical  than 
that  of  our  public  schools. 

Preparatory  Schools  in  the  States  are  " crammers" 
for  special  College  Work.  This  has  to  be  paid  for. 
Andover  prepares  for  Harvard,  Exeter  for  Yale. 

The  nearest  comparison  to  the  English  public 
schools  are  St.  Paul's,  Groton,  and  St.  Mark's, 
where  the  training  of  character  and  physique  are 
emphasised.  Germany  has  no  such  schools. 

About  half  the  students  go  direct  to  the  Uni- 
versity from  the  Public  Schools.  Many  of  these 
youths  earn  their  fees  during  the  vacations  as  tram- 
conductors,  newspaper  boys,  teachers,  or  in  steam- 


230  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

ships,  to  pay  their  way  for  their  courses  of  study  in 
the  ensuing  term. 

All  the  time  their  god  is  the  American  flag.  The 
patriotism  of  the  country  is  simply  splendid,  and 
it  is  all  due  to  youthful  education  being  centred 
round  the  star-spangled  banner.  Every  morning 
in  many  schools  the  teachers  salute  the  flag. 
Every  pupil  does  the  same.  And  further,  the  Sons 
and  Daughters  of  the  States  have  been  known  to 
pack  the  stars  and  stripes  in  their  boxes  when 
travelling  in  foreign  lands.  Great  Britain  is  not 
outwardly  patriotic. 

Why,  we  appear  to  be  almost  ashamed  of  our  flag, 
we  fly  it  so  seldom.  One  can  walk  down  Regent 
Street  and  see  almost  every  other  nation's  flag 
floating  in  the  wind,  and  not  a  single  Union  Jack. 
The  English  seem  as  shy  of  flying  their  flag,  as 
they  seem  ashamed  of  demonstrating  affection. 
Englishmen  invariably  show  their  worst  side  to 
strangers,  largely  from  shyness,  their  best  side  is 
generally  packed  away  in  the  store-room. 

In  America  they  are  wise  enough  to  have  small 
classes  instead  of  forty  or  fifty  scholars  in  each,  as 
we  so  stupidly  do.  How  can  any  teacher  study  the 
little  idiosyncrasies  of  forty  or  fifty  children  or 
young  people  in  a  class,  how  can  he  influence  their 
lives  when  he  never  has  a  chance  to  get  at  them, 
except  in  herds  ?  Examination  marks  do  not 
necessarily  mean  big  attainment  in  knowledge, 


WHAT  IS  AN  AMERICAN?  231 

though  they  may  stand  for  immediate  and  super- 
ficial assimilation  of  facts.  We  all  want  more  indi- 
vidualism, more  ideals,  more  technical  knowledge, 
more  insight  into  the  pitfalls  of  life,  and  the  incul- 
cation of  fundamental  moral  qualities. 

How  necessary  this  last  teaching  is.  We  are 
sometimes  taught  how  to  earn  a  living,  but  we  are 
supposed  to  live  our  lives  by  instinct.  Until  now 
little  has  been  done  to  teach  boys  and  girls  the 
seriousness  of  life.  They  have  simply  gone  along, 
and  chaos  has  been  the  result.  Learning  without 
education  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word  fills,  without 
developing,  the  mind. 

But  there,  education  is  a  big  field  and  we  have 
much  to  learn  from  America  and  Germany  about 
head  work  ;  while  we  can  teach  them  something  in 
the  formation  of  character  and  physical  well- 
being. 

The  raw  immigrant  is  almost  as  quickly  turned 
into  an  American  citizen,  as  a  Chicago  pig  is  trans- 
formed into  a  canned  sausage.  Once  landed,  no 
matter  where  he  comes  from,  the  flag  and  patriot- 
ism are  rubbed  into  his  bones.  We  stupidly  do  not 
even  show  our  aliens  the  Union  Jack,  nor  teach 
them  to  respect  it. 

Of  course,  the  argument  against  this  is  that 
America  wants  this  immigration.  We  do  not. 
America  is  under-populated,  we  are  over-populated. 
This  may  be  so,  but  we  allow  the  alien  ;  and  as  we 


232  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

permit  him  and  his  family  to  land,  we  ought  to 
make  him  a  British  patriot  as  quickly  as  possible. 
When  taking  a  first-class  passage  to  the  States, 
one  hardly  expects  to  be  asked  among  a  host  of 
other  questions :  — 

Age  (give  years  and  months)  ? 

Able  to  read  ? 

Able  to  write  ? 

Name  and  Address  in  full  of  the  nearest  Relative  or  Friend 
in  the  Country  from  which  Alien  comes  ? 

Final  Destination  (City  or  Town)  ? 
(State)  ? 

By  whom  was  passage  paid  ? 

Whether  in  possession  of  $50  or  upward,  and,  if  less,  how 
much  ? 

Whether  ever  before  in  the  United  States,  and,  if  so,  when 
and  where  ? 

State  full  Address  to  which  you  are  going,  and  if  to  join  a 
relative  or  friend,  state  what  relative  or  friend,  with 
Name  and  Address  ? 

Whether  ever  in  Prison  or  Almshouses,  or  an  Institution, 
or  Hospital  for  the  care  and  treatment  of  the  Insane,  or 
supported  by  Charity  ? 

Whether  a  Polygamist  ? 

Whether  an  Anarchist  ? 

Whether  coming  by  reason  of  any  Offer,  solicitation, 
promise,  or  Agreement,  express  or  implied,  to  labour  in  the 
United  States  ? 

Condition  of  Health,  Mental  and  Physical  ? 

Deformed  or  Crippled,  Nature,  length  of  time,  and  Cause  ? 

Height  ?     Feet  ?     Inches  ? 

Color  of  Hair  ? 

Marks  of  Identification  ? 

Complexion  ? 

Colour  of  Eyes  ? 


WHAT  IS  AN  AMERICAN? 


233 


Then  one  is  asked  which  of  the  following  lan- 
guages one  can  speak. 


African  (black). 

Armenian. 

Bohemian. 

Bosnian. 

Bulgarian. 

Chinese. 

Croatian. 

Cuban. 

Dalmatian. 

Dutch. 

East  Indian. 

English. 

Finnish. 

Flemish. 

French. 

German. 

Greek. 

Hebrew. 

Herzegovian. 

Irish. 

Italian  (North). 

Italian  (South). 

Japanese. 

Korean. 


List  of  Races  or  Peoples 

Lithuanian. 

Magyar. 

Mexican. 

Montenegrin. 

Moravian. 

Pacific  Islander. 

Polish. 

Portuguese. 

Roumanian. 

Russian. 

Ruthenian  (Russniak). 

Scandinavian    (Norwegians,    Danes,    and 

Swedes). 
Scotch. 
Servian. 
Slovak. 
Slovenian. 
Spanish. 

Spanish-American. 
Syrian. 
Turkish. 
Welsh. 
West  Indian. 


But  when  one  sets  out  on  the  return  journey,  one 
is  faced  by  only  six  questions  :  — 

Port  of  Embarkation  ? 

Port  at  which  passenger  landed  ? 

Name  of  Passenger  ? 


234  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

Profession  ? 

Country  of  which  Citizen  or  subject  ? 

Country  of  intended  future   permanent  residence  ? 

When  one  asks,  What  is  an  American  ?  one  thinks 
of  Jane  Addams  and  her  work.  She  and  her  fol- 
lowing are  not  socialists,  but  social  reformers. 

Hull  House  is  one  of  the  best-known  institutions 
in  America.  Speaking  one  day  to  a  lady  at  lunch- 
eon about  Miss  Jane  Addams,  I  remarked  :  — 

"I  suppose  she  is  the  best-known  woman  in  the 
States." 

"She  is  the  best-known  woman  in  the  world," 
was  her  reply. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  Jane  Addams  is  a  great  per- 
sonality. She  was  born  in  1860.  After  travelling 
some  years  in  Europe,  her  sympathy  was  aroused 
by  the  dwellers  of  the  slums.  She  had  a  small  in- 
come of  her  own,  and  in  1889,  established  Hull 
House,  a  settlement  in  Chicago.  This  is  now 
heavily  endowed  by  her  followers. 

It  is  individuality  that  counts.  Miss  Jane 
Addams  has  individuality,  and  she  has  gathered 
about  her  thirty  or  forty  men  and  women  workers, 
who  are  devoting  their  lives  to  social  work,  statis- 
tics, and  general  experiments,  for  the  betterment  of 
the  alien. 

She  has  a  kindly  face  ;  her  hair,  which  is  brushed 
straight  back  from  her  forehead,  is  growing  grey, 
and  there  is  something  pathetic  in  the  look  of  her 


WHAT  IS  AN  AMERICAN?  235 

eyes  ;  they  express  sympathy  and  suffering.  Satur- 
day night  is  a  great  night  at  Hull  House ;  it  is 
the  night  when  Jane  Addams  invites  her  friends 
to  dinner,  and  all  kinds  of  people,  interested  in  all 
kinds  of  work,  meet  as  her  guests.  The  affair  is 
informal ;  there  is  a  sort  of  go-as-you-please  air 
about  everything ;  many  brilliant  ideas  are  ex- 
changed and  suggestions  vouchsafed  at  those  three 
long  dining  tables,  at  one  of  which  the  lady  of 
the  house  herself  presides  in  the  simple  banquet- 
ing hall  of  Hull  House. 

The  night  I  was  there,  different  groups  were 
discussing  Suffrage.  Jane  Addams' s  candidate, 
Roosevelt,  had  just  been  rejected.  She  had  had 
the  proud  honour,  for  a  woman,  of  seconding  his 
nomination  in  the  Convention  of  the  Progressive 
Party  in  1912.  Mr.  Roosevelt  had  promised 
Suffrage,  and  Miss  Addams,  who  is  a  good  speaker 
and  has  become  very  political,  was  greatly  upset 
at  the  defeat  of  her  candidate. 

It  was  the  first  time  an  American  woman  had 
taken  such  an  active  part  of  self-assertion  in 
politics. 

Hull  House  has  become  a  model  for  settlement 
workers  in  all  lands.  Miss  Addams  has  conducted 
a  great  altruistic  movement  without  silly  senti- 
mentality. She  believes  in  training  the  mentally 
weedy  by  hard  work,  because  she  thinks  that  when 
physically  equipped  for  bread-winning,  the  higher 


236  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

moral  qualities  follow.  When  I  first  saw  her,  I 
thought  her  a  strange  little  woman,  keen,  sharp, 
somewhat  socialistic,  and  apparently  old.  She 
was  not  —  she  was  then  only  forty.  When  I 
saw  her  twelve  years  later  in  1912,  I  thought  her 
young,  vigorous,  and  full  of  life.  Success  had 
come. 

That  night  at  Hull  House  there  was  great  ex- 
citement because  the  Suffrage  Party  had  just  won 
four  states.  They  said,  with  these  additions,  the 
voting  women  in  the  States  then  numbered  two  mil- 
lion, with  a  representation  of  seventy  Electors  in  the 
Electoral  College,  and  yet  the  women  of  New  York 
have  not  yet  got  the  vote.  Hence  the  "  Thanks- 
giving" and  "Protest"  march  in  New  York  City. 
They  are  getting  as  active  and  excited  in  America 
over  Suffrage  as  we  have  been  for  the  last  ten  years 
in  England. 

One  of  the  things  these  women  voters  will  have 
to  do  is  to  see  to  their  birth  certificates,  or  rather  the 
want  of  them ;  for  the  country  seems  singularly 
like  Russia  in  this  respect.  In  Great  Britain  every 
child  born  must  be  registered  within  a  few  weeks 
by  one  or  other  parent.  He  requires  his  birth 
certificate  when  entering  school  or  the  Army  —  for 
University  entrance  and  examinations ;  in  fact, 
his  birth  certificate  is  as  important  as  himself. 
Some  day  I  hope  it  will  have  to  be  produced  before 
his  marriage,  and  then  we  may  stop  some  of  these 


WHAT  IS  AN  AMERICAN  ?  237 

irresponsible  child-marriages  which  do  so  much 
harm. 

Hull  House  is  situated  in  the  slums,  —  the  very 
slummiest  part  of  Chicago.  Once  a  beautiful  old 
farm-house,  it  still  retains  something  of  its  ancient 
splendour,  and  opens  its  big  halls  to  its  neighbours. 
There  are  dances  every  night  for  the  young  people  ; 
there  is  a  theatre  where  wonderfully  good  theatrical 
performances  are  given  on  Saturday  night,  by 
local  amateurs,  who  spend  their  time  playing  pieces 
by  John  Masefield,  John  Galsworthy,  Bernard 
Shaw,  J.  M.  Barrie,  and  foreign  writers.  They 
rarely  produce  anything  American,  which,  to  my 
mind,  is  a  pity. 

I  should  venture  to  differ  from  the  ethics  of  Hull 
House  on  the  domestic  question.  We  have  all  got 
to  live.  We  of  the  middle  class  have  all  got  to 
have  our  beds  made,  our  food  cooked,  our  rooms 
kept  clean,  and  have  clothes  to  wear.  Children 
must  be  reared  and  tended  ;  therefore  it  is  ab- 
solutely necessary  for  the  comfort  of  an  empire  to 
teach  domesticity  and  love  of  home. 

Socialism  is  ideal,  but  oh,  so  unpractical  !  It  is 
as  selfish  as  Christian  Science.  Everything  for 
the  individual  sounds  delightful ;  but  we  are  all 
units  in  a  vast  complex  system,  and  although  we 
can  each  have  our  own  individuality  we  must  con- 
form to  rules  and  regulations,  and  we  must  every 
one  of  us  contribute  our  mite  to  the  happiness  of 


238  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

our  surroundings.  Miss  Jane  Addams,  with  all 
her  wonderful  work  and  her  desire  for  the  better- 
ment of  everybody  and  everything,  seems  to  me  to 
be  encouraging  too  much  independence  and  too 
little  consideration  for  that  institution  which  is 
the  backbone  of  every  nation  and  is  known  as  the 
home. 

There  is  no  dishonour  in  service.  Everyone  on 
God's  earth  must  be  subservient  to  another. 
Every  man  must  render  service  to  somebody, 
though  his  last  master  must  always  be  his  own 
conscience. 

I  once  asked  a  delightful  American  his  impres- 
sions of  London  while  I  was  busily  writing  my 
own  on  his  country.  He  wrote  :  — 

"Every  American  expects  to  go  abroad  sooner  or  later 
to  see  the  countries  from  which  his  ancestors  came,  and 
to  see,  as  it  were,  *  History  in  the  Flesh/  for  he  knows 
more  history  and  more  English  literature  than  one  would 
guess. 

"In  going  to  England  I  was  struck  of  course  at  first  with 
the,  to  me,  funny  little  railroad  trains  and  cars,  and  later  with 
the  dangerous  compartment  system,  where  one  is  bundled 
into  a  section  or  compartment  of  a  train  with  *  goodness  knows 
who/  and  is  obliged  to  stay  there  helpless,  if  molested, 
until  the  next  station  at  least.  This  we  consider  outrageous. 
I  believe  it  is  being  gradually  abolished.  The  apparent 
civility  of  the  lower  classes  was  also  evident ;  apparent  be- 
cause one  feels  that  it  is  only  superficial  and  that  the  'good 
as  you '  feeling  lies  very  close  to  the  surface  air,  '  Yes,  sir ; 
thank  you,  sir/ 


WHAT  IS  AN  AMERICAN?  239 

"The  low  buildings  of  London  rob  it  of  its  resemblance  to 
a  great  American  city,  and  to  us  it  seems  like  a  very,  very 
large  village,  such  as  we  have  a  number  of  at  home,  but  much 
larger;  the  same  thing  over  and  over  again  wherever  you 
go  (barring  its  public  buildings).  No  very  striking  charac- 
teristics which  would  lead  one  to  say :  — 

"'  Well,  at  last  here  is  a  city/ 

"  I  was  also  struck  with  the  lack  of  flexibility  of  custom ;  for 
instance,  my  first  arrival  in  London  occurred  one  chilly 
night  in  February.  I  came  Calais  to  Dover  and  arrived  in 
London  about  eleven  o'clock  at  night.  I  had  foolishly 
brought  only  one  rug,  and  the  trains  were  not  heated,  so  I 
was  quite  chilled  when  I  got  out  of  the  car  and  ready  for  a 
good  hot  drink,  a  fire,  and  a  warm  bed.  As  ill  luck  would  have 
it,  being  a  stranger,  I  went  to  the  C —  Hotel,  walked  into 
the  lobby,  and  asked  for  a  room,  and  then  for  a  hot  whiskey, 
as  I  was  chilled  through.  A  room  was  assigned  to  me,  but  I 
was  told  that  I  could  not  have  my  whiskey  until  I  went  to 
my  room. 

"  In  the  lobby  a  bright  fire  was  burning  and  it  was  not  so  for- 
bidding as  it  might  have  been,  and  it  was  there  that  I  wanted 
my  drink  and  at  once !  but  no ;  further  requests  met  with 
further  refusals,  and  still  shivering,  I  went,  protesting,  away 
from  the  comfortable  office  and  bright  fire  to  a  cold,  cheerless 
room  on  the  third  floor,  where  a  chilly  maid  was  down  on 
her  knees  blowing  at  a  hole  in  the  wall  (it  looked  like  it) 
as  I  thought,  but  on  close  scrutiny  I  found  it  to  be  a  tiny 
fireplace  in  which  were  a  few  little  sticks  and  seven  and  a 
half  pieces  of  coal. 

"The  bed  was  turned  down,  but  the  sheets  were  damp  and 
cold.  In  desperation  I  drove  the  maid  out  for  the  whiskey 
and  hot  water,  and  undertook  the  task  of  persuading  the  fire 
to  go  on  myself,  and  incidentally  nearly  swallowed  it  all  in 
taking  too  deep  a  breath. 

"Finally  the  'drink'  came.  I  imbibed  it,  and  another. 
The  fire  consented  to  go  on  and,  fearing  the  damp  sheets,  I 


240  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

retired  to  rest  as  I  was,  piling  the  blanket  and  my  steamer 
rug  over  me. 

"Such  was  my  welcome  to  London. 

"But  I  had  been  brought  face  to  face  with  this  sort  of 
thing  which  one  meets  so  often  in  England. 

"'It  isn't  done,  you  know.' 

"'Why  not  ?'  asks  the  surprised  American. 

"'Because  it  hasn't  been.' 

"'Then  now  is  the  time  to  do  it,'  replies  the  American. 

"This  everlasting  'It  is  not  done'  may  be  all  right,  but  it  is 
maddening.  An  American  traveller  abroad  was  taken  into 
a  chapel  as  an  especial  favour,  in  the  corner  of  which  an 
antique  lamp  was  burning. 

"Approaching  this  with  the  American  in  tow,  the  sacristan 
said  in  tones  of  awe,  'This  lamp,  sir,  has  been  burning  for 
over  a  thousand  years,  it  has  never  been  extinguished  ;  the  oil 
is  replenished  now  and  then  and  other  wicks  added,  but  the 
light  has  never  gone  out  in  that  time.' 

"'Never  ?'  said  the  American. 
"Never  !'  said  the  sacristan,  with  fervour. 

"'Well,  it's  out  now,'  said  the  American,  and  at  the  same 
time  blew  out  the  lamp. 

"This  probably  never  happened,  but  it  illustrates  the 
American  spirit  of  intolerance  of  restraint  without  what  to 
them  appears  to  be  reason. 

"The  American  feels  that  the  European  is  still  carrying  a 
stone  on  one  side  of  the  poor  donkey  to  balance  the  load  of 
wheat  on  the  other. 

"With  a  few  exceptions  I  really  find  it  difficult  to  under- 
stand the  English  men  in  their  speech.  They  appear  to 
swallow  their  words,  as  it  were.  The  English  women,  on 
the  contrary,  seem  quite  free  from  this  peculiarity  and  it  is 
delightful  to  listen  to  a  cultured  English  woman's  conversa- 
tion, clear,  distinct,  correct  inflections,  with  good  values, 
unfortunately,  however,  lacking  in  colour  and  tone. 

"Many,    many    things   are    different    and    interesting: 


WHAT  IS  AN  AMERICAN?  241 

clothes,  shoes,  attitude  of  the  audience  in  a  theatre  —  oh 
dear,  I  always  feel  in  an  English  theatre  (not  a  Music 
Hall)  as  though,  presently,  some  one  will  tap  me  on  the 
shoulder  and  say,  *  Sorry,  sir,  but  you  must  go  out,  sir; 
you  smiled,  sir;  not  allowed  to  smile,  sir;  thank  you,  sir; 
yes,  sir. 

"Checking  the  trunks;  that  was  a  shock.  You  see  your 
trunks  delivered  to  the  railway  official,  but  when  you  ask 
for  checks,  you  are  told  that  'that  is  not  the  custom/  and 
'There  you  are,  sir/  When  you  reach  your  destination,  you 
pick  out  whatever  trunks  you  like  and  take  them  away. 
'You  are  expected  to  take  only  your  own,  sir,  you  know.' 
It  is  funny,  and  one  only  smiles.  You  are  put  on  honour, 
as  it  were. 

"Ticket  to  Edinburgh,  sir  ?  that's  the  train,  sir;  —  oh,  no, 
sir  —  don't  bother  to  pay,  sir  —  you  can  pay  some  one  else, 
sir  —  some  other  time,  sir,  will  do  —  when  you're  coming 
back  will  do,  sir." 

"England  expects  every  man  to  be  honest. 

"Two  delightful  bits  of  English  life  came  to  me  quite  un- 
expectedly. My  first  tea  in  London  was  on  this  wise.  I 
had  been  called  to  the  office  of  an  English  concern  in  the  city 
for  a  conference,  which  began  in  the  morning  early.  We  had 
lunch  in  due  season  and  then  my  confreres  went  to  another 
appointment,  I  being  left  in  one  of  their  offices  to  go  over  my 
papers  for  a  few  hours.  It  was  cold  and  rainy,  and  although 
the  office  was  pleasantly  furnished  and  there  was  an  open  fire, 
still  I  was  feeling  rather  tired  and  a  bit  lonely  when  in  came 
a  commissionaire  with  a  tray,  most  inviting,  in  its  appeal, 
with  tea,  bread-and-butter,  and  cake. 

"My  first  thought  was  that  somebody  was  ill,  until  the 
man  said  very  pleasantly,  'I  thought  you'd  like  tea,  sir;' 
and  then  I  was  sure  I  wanted  it. 

"It  was  good,  and  ever  since  I  have  understood  and  sym- 
pathised with  the  five  o'clock  tea  habit  of  England.  Good 
luck  to  it ! 


242  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

"My  next  pleasant  surprise  was  a  glimpse  of  English 
suburban,  if  not  country,  life. 

"I  had  an  appointment  in  the  city  to  meet  an  Englishman, 
with  whom  friends  in  New  York  wished  to  open  business 
relations. 

"I  called  early  one  afternoon,  and  found  him  in,  but  very 
stiff  and  cold  and  not  at  all  responsive.  He  finally  rose,  and 
said  he  had  an  engagement  to  play  tennis  and  must  leave.  I 
rose  also,  and  said  I  envied  him  his  tennis,  for  I  was  very  fond 
of  the  game. 

"What,*  he  exclaimed,  'you  play  tennis  ?' 

"Upon  my  reaffirming  this,  he  changed  absolutely,  became 
quite  human,  and  invited  me  to  go  at  once  to  his  house  for 
an  afternoon. 

"We  went  together  to  my  hotel,  the  Metropole,  got  my 
tennis  things,  and  then  to  his  house  at  East  Sheen.  There  I 
found  his  wife,  a  very  sweet  woman,  and  four  daughters 
waiting  for  him  on  the  tennis-court.  What  a  lovely  home  it 
was,  and  what  a  charming  life  they  lived  altogether. 

"We  played  tennis  until  tea-time  and  then  again  until 
dark,  about  eight  in  the  evening.  Then  a  bath  and  dinner. 
It  was  all  most  delightful,  a  revelation  of  an  English  home 
and  home  life.  We  became  good  friends,  for  I  went  often  for 
tennis,  and  soon  our  business  relations  were  established  on  a 
firm  and  sound  footing. 

"Then  I  was  struck  with  the  ugly  old  women  sitting  behind 
beautiful  flowers  at  street  corners,  and  told  they  were  the 
'flower  girls/ 

"We  have  no  barmaids,  and  no  women  drink  at  public 
bars ;  these  being  both  allowed  rather  horrified  me. 

"I  thought  top-hats  and  frock-coats  gave  a  great  air  of 
distinction  to  your  business  men.  It  was  a  pretty  custom, 
and  Fm  sorry  to  hear  it  has  gone.  I  liked  it.  Bond  Street 
seemed  so  narrow  and  small  for  its  big  and  wide  reputation. 

"Your  Music  Halls  with  their  big,  comfortable  seats  were  de- 
lightful, and  I  wish  we  had  something  of  the  kind  in  America." 


WHAT  IS  AN  AMERICAN?  243 

American  artisans  are  being  made  in  many 
ways,  and  the  American  mechanic  takes  front  rank. 
It  is  a  land  of  machinery. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  things  in  New  York, 
and  one  of  the  things  that  is  doing  most  valuable 
work,  is  the  Cooper  Union  for  the  Advancement  of 
Science  and  Art.  I  dined  with  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Edwin  Hewitt,  and  after  dinner  we  went  down  to 
see  this  marvellous  building,  started  in  1859  by  my 
host's  grandfather.  Old  Cooper  was  a  poor  boy ;  as 
a  lad  he  so  much  missed  the  possibility  of  learning 
his  beloved  engineering,  for  want  of  funds,  that  he 
decided  in  his  mind  that  if  he  ever  got  on  in  the 
world,  he  would  help  other  young  people  to  acquire 
easily  what  was  denied.  Gradually  he  accumulated 
a  little  fortune.  With  it,  this  engineer,  who  had 
become  the  engineer  of  his  own  destiny,  became 
the  engineer  of  many  young  men  and  women's 
futures.  He  started  his  Institute. 

It  is  much  along  the  lines  of  the  Polytechnic  in 
London,  or  the  technical  schools  in  Manchester  and 
other  parts  of  England. 

Although  begun  and  maintained  by  this  one 
man  and  his  family  for  years  and  years,  it  has  now 
grown  too  large  for  that,  as  will  readily  be  under- 
stood when  one  realises  that  from  twelve  hundred  to 
two  thousand  people  attend  classes  every  week,  and 
there  is  always  a  large  waiting  list.  These  classes 
are  for  mechanical  and  electrical  engineering  with 


244  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

all  kinds  of  machinery ;  architecture,  chemistry, 
science,  physics,  telegraphy,  stenography  and  book- 
keeping (especially  for  women),  decorative  art, 
modelling,  painting  from  life,  literature,  economics, 
and  elocution. 

This  Cooper  Union  night  school  was  really  the 
first  one  started  in  America.  Something  like  sixty 
per  cent  of  the  men  employed  in  mechanical  work 
in  New  York  have  been  trained  at  the  Cooper 
Union ;  and  I  was  much  struck  by  the  fact,  in  go- 
ing through  the  building,  that  so  many  young  men 
spoke  with  a  foreign  accent.  It  seems  that  twenty- 
five  per  cent  of  the  people  there  hardly  know  the 
English  language,  and  another  large  percentage  are 
foreigners.  Does  this  not  show  the  desire  of  the 
alien  to  better  himself  and  forge  ahead  ? 

Different  degrees  are  granted,  and  the  students 
holding  them  readily  find  employment.  People 
are  educated  for  specific  posts,  not  trained  for  posi- 
tions that  do  not  exist,  as  is  so  often  the  case  in 
England.  Educational  readjustment  has  become 
a  necessity  to-day. 

It  was  very  curious  when  speaking  to  the  pupils 
to  find  how  many  of  them  were  employed  at  the 
night  school  on  a  different  class  of  work  to  that 
which  they  did  all  day.  For  instance,  a  girl  who 
was  earning  her  living  as  a  dressmaker,  did  two 
hours'  chemistry  every  night  because  she  wanted  to 
become  a  dispenser.  A  man  who  was  a  carriage 


WHAT  IS  AN  AMERICAN?  245 

builder  was  learning  designing ;  an  hotel-lift  man 
was  studying  mechanical  engineering.  A  cook- 
man  from  a  "  Down  Town"  restaurant  was  learning 
how  to  make  weight  and  measure  machines,  as  he 
thought  he  had  invented  something,  but  could  not 
apply  his  idea  without  more  knowledge,  and  so  on. 
A  great  work,  indeed  --  the  result  of  a  great  con- 
ception by  a  great  man. 

The  American  Mechanic  is  a  wonder.  He  does 
twice  as  much  work  as  his  British  confrere.  He 
takes  on  pace  with  every  month,  and  like  American 
machinery  he  soon  wears  out,  falls  to  pieces,  and 
rots  away.  English  machinery  is  made  to  last, 
but  such  quality  is  no  longer  wanted  ;  something 
new  is  always  being  invented  ;  "Let  the  thresher, 
or  the  engine,  work  straight  ahead  for  all  it  can  for 
two  or  three  years,  then  thrust  it  aside,  and  buy  a 
newer  and  more  up-to-date  one,"  is  the  present  cry. 

It  is  the  day  of  change  ;  cheap  goods  are  wanted, 
cheap  clothes,  cheap  machinery,  cheap  everything. 
New  inventions  are  coming  along  all  the  time,  and 
to-day  nothing  is  good  enough  to  be  worthy  of  being 
made  a  permanent  fixture. 

It  is  the  hour  of  unrest  in  every  land,  the  day  of 
quick,  mechanical  work,  and  general  rush. 

To-morrow  has  become  to-day.  We  all  live  in 
advance,  or  try  to. 


CHAPTER  X 
THE  LAND  OF  ASSIMILATION 

"En  este  mundo  traidor, 
No  hay  verdad,  Nada  es  mentera, 
Pues  to  do  toma  el  color, 
Del  cristal,  con  que  se  mira." 

"In  this  deceitful  world 
There  is  no  truth,  there  is  no  lie, 
We  see  it,  through  the  colour 
Of  the  glass,  before  the  eye." 

THE  United  States  is  a  marvellous  country  for 
assimilation. 

People  assimilate  good  music,  good  drama,  good 
art ;  they  assimilate  everything. 

Just  as  Queen  Alexandra  smiled  herself  into  the 
hearts  of  the  British  people,  the  American  woman 
paves  her  way  into  the  portals  of  good  society. 
Unless  a  New  Yorker  can  reach  a  certain  standard 
of  society  success,  she  will  not  be  able  to  procure 
a  box  in  the  "Horseshoe"  at  the  Opera-house, 
which  is  the  hall-mark  of  social  status.  A  Duke's 
coronet  of  strawberry  leaves  is  hardly  more  cov- 
eted. 

The  moment  a  man  has  made  money  in  Detroit, 
Denver,  or  Kansas,  where  his  rise  has  been  deplored 

246 


THE  LAND  OF  ASSIMILATION 


247 


Drawn  by  W.  K.  Haselden.    Reproduced  by  permission  of  the  London  Daily  Mirror. 

AN  EUGENIC  WEDDING 


248  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

by  his  enemies  and  envied  by  his  friends,  he  sets 
sail  for  Manhattan.  There,  he  at  once  buys  a 
corner  house  and  starts  his  wife  off  to  "get  into 
society",  and  what  is  more,  that  wife  generally 
succeeds. 

My  admiration  for  the  unbounded  capacity  of 
the  American  woman  is  profound.  This  society 
lady,  however,  does  not  appreciate  sufficiently  the 
important  work  being  done  by  the  really  great 
women  of  her  country. 

"Things  that  ought  to  count,  don't,"  said  such  a 
woman  to  me. 

She  is  right.  The  nation  has  few  ideals,  few 
heroes,  and  little  reverence.  It  is  a  thorny  road  to 
travel,  a  road  without  ideals,  without  heroes,  with- 
out traditions.  If  a  man  has  no  God,  he  stumbles 
and  falls  by  the  way.  If  he  has  no  ideals,  his  life 
becomes  unregulated,  and  if  a  nation  is  made  up  of 
men  who  have  no  standards  of  value  or  reverence, 
except  flag  and  constitution,  they  may  reach  a 
certain  height,  then  they  become  giddy,  they  lack 
balance,  and  like  Humpty  Dumpty,  they  fall ;  for 
a  nation  after  all  is  but  a  conglomeration  of  in- 
dividuals. 

Every  salad  is  better  for  a  little  vinegar,  and 
honest  speech  must  not  be  taken  unkindly. 

One  finds  this  lack  of  ideals,  reverence,  and 
want  of  public  life  when  enquiring  into  the 
present  position  of  the  sons  and  grandsons  of 


THE  LAND  OF  ASSIMILATION  249 

those  who  have  accumulated  great  American 
wealth.  Their  fathers  have  collected  their  dollars 
so  fast  that  they  have  had  little  time  to  look  after 
their  sons,  who  have  not  always  inherited  their 
brains,  with  the  result  that  these  sons  have  some- 
times dissipated  their  family  wealth,  have  married 
women  of  the  sphere  from  which  their  parents 
originally  came,  or  from  the  front  row  of  the  chorus 
in  some  theatre,  —  which  is  worse,  —  and  in  many 
cases  have  "thrown  themselves  back"  in  a  manner 
that  is  greatly  to  be  deplored.  This  may  largely 
be  the  result  of  superficiality,  or  it  may  be  heredity. 
Educated  men  who  marry  common  women  always 
repent. 

English  noblemen  marry  American  heiresses  or 
English  actresses  ;  German  officers  marry  Jewesses 
or  merchants'  daughters  to-day  —  alliances  utterly 
tabooed  a  few  years  ago  in  both  countries.  In  fact, 
we  begin  to  wonder  whether  the  French  mariage  de 
convenance,  or  the  Japanese  "marriage  by  arrange- 
ment" has  not  good  points  and  larger  possibilities 
for  nuptial  success  than  appear  on  the  surface. 
Anyway  the  people  of  those  lands  are  socially 
equal,  and  have  money  sufficient  for  their  position  ; 
so  they  start  the  thorny  path  of  matrimony  well 
equipped.  Ill-assorted  alliances  fail  ninety  times 
in  a  hundred.  An  enormous  percentage  of  the 
American-European  marriages  are  failures. 

Everything  is  subservient  to  fashion  the  world 


250  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

over.  New  York  copies  Europe,  the  West  copies 
New  York.  The  proprietors  of  the  hotels  go  to 
Europe  every  spring  to  learn  the  latest  dishes,  the 
latest  form  of  tea-cup  or  serviette,  just  as  regularly 
as  the  bonnet-woman,  or  the  blouse-maker  goes 
to  learn  the  most  modern  modes  in  dress.  If 
So-and-So  in  London  or  Paris  says:  "This  is  the 
proper  thing  to  do,"  New  York,  St.  Louis,  and 
Chicago  must  follow  suit. 

There  are  fashions  in  everything.  Fashions  in 
art,  fashions  in  music,  and  so  on,  and  America  is 
ready  to  accept  every  new  fad  and  every  new  freak. 
She  is  the  land  of  assimilation. 

"American  taste  in  music  is  snobbish,"  once  said 
a  big  concert  impresario  to  me. 

"How  so?" 

"Only  two  things  succeed.  Either  I  must  pay 
for  enormous  ads  (advertisements)  for  my  perform- 
ance, as  was  done  by  insuring  a  man's  fingers  so 
that  all  the  country  could  talk  about  his  fingers ; 
or  the  artist  must  come  here  with  a  large  European 
reputation  which  we  can  boom.  No  American- 
born  genius  will  ever  get  a  chance  on  his  own  merits. 
The  proletariat  are  sometimes  musical,  but  always 
poor,  and  the  rich  are  mere  snobs  in  matters  of 
taste.  We  have  a  front  door  which  we  open  with  a 
golden  key,  and  the  backyard  is  immediately  be- 
hind. We  have  no  educated  middle  class  to  speak 
of." 


THE  LAND  OF  ASSIMILATION  251 

Thus  he  spoke.  He  may  or  may  not  be  right, 
although  his  remarks  might  well  apply  to  my  own 
country.  Anyway  I  heard  much  excellent  music  at 
the  Bagby  concerts  in  New  York,  the  Symphony 
Orchestra  at  Boston,  and  the  Thomas  Orchestra 
concerts  in  Chicago. 

Again  and  again  the  traveller  asks  himself, 
How  is  it  that  America  which  is  so  vast,  has  so  much 
talent,  and  so  little  real  genius  ?  Is  genius  dying 
out  in  the  world  ? 

To  turn  to  music.  There  are  any  number 
of  interpreters,  but  how  few  are  creative  inter- 
preters. Among  the  latter  McDowell,  of  whom 
they  are  justly  proud,  was  a  real  American.  Other 
composers  of  note  are  Ethelbert  Nevin,  De  Koven, 
Chadwick,  Victor  Herbert,  and  Souza. 

One  hears  rag-time  music  on  every  side,  and 
mighty  pretty  some  of  it  is,  too.  America  seems  to 
claim  it  as  her  own.  Beethoven  in  his  Leonora 
Overture  and  Berlioz  in  his  Hungarian  March  used 
the  same  idea.  Rag-time  is  vigorous  and  has 
character,  and  a  spice  of  it  may  be  found  in  all 
folk-music.  The  American  word  "rag"  is  to  syn- 
copate a  regular  tune.  Some  people  call  this 
mixture  of  two  rhythms  the  music  of  the  hustler ; 
anyway,  it  is  often  fascinating  and  invigorating, 
and  America  may  be  founding  a  national  rag-time 
music  of  her  own. 

Amongst  singers  America  is  well  to  the  fore. 


252  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

Emma  Eames,  Nordica,  Mary  Garden,  Farrar, 
Homer,  Felice  Lyne,  are  all  of  the  first  rank ; 
David  Bispham,  and  the  much  regretted  Eugene 
Oudin,'represent  American  men  in  the  world  of  song. 

As  a  skilled  violinist  one  might  mention  Maud 
Powell.  The  sphere  of  art  has  already  been  con- 
sidered. Young  men  and  women  are  rising  up,  it 
is  true,  but  again  it  is  a  case  of  much  talent  and 
little  genius. 

If  one  turns  to  science,  the  name  that  stands  fore- 
most, and  miles  ahead  of  everybody,  is  Thomas 
Edison.  Next  to  him  comes  Eastman,  who  is 
also  a  great  exploiter  and  business  man. 

Among  inventions,  America  may  be  justly 
proud  of  Morse's  telegraph,  Bell's  telephone,  and 
Edison's  phonograph.  All  these  were  pure  in- 
ventions. The  flying-machine  was  perfected  by 
the  Wright  Brothers,  but  not  invented  by  them. 

It  is  a  country  of  applied  science  to-day.  To 
Westinghouse  all  praise  is  due  for  his  air-brake, 
and  as  a  leading  electrical  engineer,  one  must 
mention  Horace  Field  Parshall  who  made  our 
Twopenny  Tube.  In  Nobel  prize-winners  America 
does  not  make  much  show. 

As  a  specimen  of  American  versatility,  one  might 
name  F.  Hopkinson  Smith,  equally  good  as  painter, 
writer,  and  architect.  And  yet,  after  all,  what 
are  these  few  names  among  a  population  of  a 
hundred  million  ? 


THE  LAND  OF  ASSIMILATION  253 

The  United  States  is  a  big  workshop,  open  to  all 
the  world  to  work  in.  Wise  men  who  have  made 
their  pile  go  away  from  its  hurly-burly  to  more 
cultured  lands,  and  suffer  the  stigma  of  being 
called  "  unpatriotic  "  by  those  who  remain. 

Turn  to  exploration,  Peary  stands  out  alone. 
Is  it  that  America  is  not  imaginative  in  anything 
except  business  ?  Is  it  that  all  her  creative  faculty 
runs  to  the  accumulation  of  dollars  ?  Or  why  is  it, 
one  continually  asks  oneself,  that  there  are  so 
many  clever  people  and  yet  so  few  who  are  really 
brilliant  ? 

Then  again  in  literature,  Hawthorne,  Washing- 
ton Irving,  Emerson,  Walt  Whitman,  Longfellow, 
James  Russell  Lowell,  Whittier,  Bryant,  Thomas 
Bailey  Aldrich,  Mark  Twain  (a  master  of  wit),  and 
a  host  of  other  names  rise  out  of  the  past.  But 
who  is  taking  their  place  to-day  ? 

William  Dean  Howells  is  probably  the  best 
writer,  and  there  are  excellent  weavers  of  romance 
such  as  Winston  Churchill,  Margaret  Deland, 
Edith  Wharton,  S.  O.  Jewett,  Thomas  Nelson 
Page,  Gertrude  Atherton,  Owen  Wister,  George 
W.  Cable,  and  many  others. 

It  is  strange  there  are  so  many  novelists  and  yet 
so  few  playwrights.  Since  Clyde  Fitch's  death 
there  seems  hardly  anyone  to  take  his  place ;  con- 
sequently there  are  an  enormous  number  of  Eng- 
lish plays  upon  the  boards.  However,  this  state 


254  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

of  affairs  is  scarcely  to  be  wondered  at  when  one 
of  the  two  groups  that  control  the  theatre  of  the 
States  has  announced  that  no  American  can  write 
a  play  worth  risking  on  the  boards,  and  the  chief 
does  not  take  the  trouble  to  read  one  when  it  has 
been  sent  to  him. 

Among  the  few  clever,  well-known  playwrights 
that  America  has  produced,  one  may  name  Wm. 
Vaughan  Moody,  who  wrote  "The  Great  Divide"  ; 
Percy  MacKaye,  Louis  K.  Anspacher,  married  to 
that  good  actress,  Kathryn  Kidder,  who  wrote 
"The  Glass  House."  It  is  quite  amusing  to  the 
visitor  to  see  thoroughly  American  plays,  such  as 
Kate  Douglas  Wiggin's  "Rebecca";  Alice  Hegan 
Rice's  "Mrs.  Wiggs  of  the  Cabbage  Patch"; 
George  M.  Cohan's  "Broadway  Jones";  George 
Ade's  charming  sketches.  Augustus  Thomas  has 
had  several  artistic  and  distinguished  productions  ; 
for  instance,  "Arizona"  and  "The  Witching 
Hour."  These  are  all  thoroughly  American,  and 
are  played  in  a  thoroughly  American  manner. 

There  were  really  no  playwrights  in  America 
until  about  twenty  years  ago  ;  that  art  —  like  the 
art  of  writing  comic  songs  in  which  they  now  ex- 
cel —  has  developed  since  then.  The  comic  songs 
they  doubtless  got  from  the  darkies  who  have  al- 
ways had  deliciously  plaintive  serio-comic  tunes 
and  verses.  It  is  a  curious  thing  also  that  the  most 
musical  voices  in  America  belong  to  the  darkies 


THE  LAND  OF  ASSIMILATION  255 

of  the  South  and  descendants  of  the  Britishers 
from  over  the  seas  in  Virginia  and  Massachusetts. 

Among  actors  no  one  has  achieved  world-wide 
reputation,  unless  one  mentions  Booth,  Lawrence 
Barrett,  Ada  Rehan,  Edwin  Forrest,  and  the  one- 
part-man,  Joseph  Jefferson.  One  of  the  actors 
loved  by  the  people  of  New  York  is  George  M. 
Cohan,  who  is  among  the  amusing  people  of 
America.  His  face  is  his  fortune,  and  his  quiet 
manner  while  doing  and  saying  the  most  ridicu- 
lous things  is  very  attractive.  His  talent  is  a 
case  of  heredity.  The  whole  family,  including 
the  father  and  mother,  have  been  on  the  stage ;  in 
fact,  in  "  Broadway  Jones,"  three  or  four  of  them 
appeared  together.  The  life  of  Broadway  Jones 
of  Broadway  is  extremely  American ;  it  repre- 
sents every  virtue  and  some  vice,  and  the  poor 
young  man  is  ruined  by  dissipation  and  extrava- 
gance. George  M.  Cohan  is  no  mean  playwright 
and  he  may,  with  verity,  be  called  a  "good  all- 
round  man." 

Among  the  amusing  American-born  actors  I 
also  saw  was  Hitchcock ;  though  he  certainly 
cannot  sing,  he  is  highly  entertaining.  One  of 
the  most  cultured,  charming  performances  I  wit- 
nessed was  George  Arliss  in  "Disraeli."  Never 
have  I  seen  a  more  enthusiastic  audience. 

Probably  the  best  actress  in  America  to-day  is 
still  Mrs.  Fiske ;  she  is  a  great  personality  and  a 


256  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

veritable  institution.  After  the  conscientious 
work  of  years,  after  performing  in  plays  which 
were  really  worth  while,  and  not  merely  plays  of 
the  moment,  this  woman  of  strong  intellectual 
character  has  won  a  place  for  herself  as  an  Ameri- 
can institution. 

Nazimova,  the  Russian-American,  would  be  a 
really  good  actress  were  it  not  for  her  contortions. 
She  has  a  certain  snake-like  charm,  a  certain 
amount  of  power,  and  a  decided  individuality ; 
but  spoilt  by  wilful  contortions.  Her  suggestive 
wrigglings  in  "Bella  Donna"  made  it  almost  im- 
possible to  sit  through  the  play. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  in  America  at  the  pres- 
ent moment  more  suggestiveness  on  the  legitimate 
stage  exists,  especially  in  musical  comedy,  than  in 
any  other  country  I  know.  Censorship  there  is 
none. 

It  was  really  a  treat  to  see  Edythe  Olive  perform 
in  "Rutherford  and  Son/'  Her  beautifully  modu- 
lated, soft,  deep  voice  was  a  pleasure  after  the 
high-pitched  tones.  Her  suppressed  emotion 
meant  much  more  than  neurotic  wrigglings,  and 
Norman  McKinnel,  as  the  rich  parent  in  the  same 
drama,  must  have  been  a  revelation  of  fine  acting 
and  gentle  force. 

That  play  was  given  at  the  Little  Theatre  in 
New  York,  which  city  must  be  congratulated  on 
its  Little  Theatre.  It  is  certainly  the  best  of  its 


THE  LAND  OF  ASSIMILATION  257 

kind.  It  is  a  gem.  The  one  in  London  is  smaller, 
plainer,  and  less  harmonious ;  that  in  Paris  is 
a  hideous  place,  where  weird  and  extraordinary 
triple  bills  appear ;  but  still  all  honour  to  it,  for 
Grand  Guignol  was  the  first  Little  Theatre,  and 
started  a  new  idea.  Dainty  little  plays  cannot 
be  given  in  huge  theatres  any  more  than  spectacu- 
lar scenes  can  be  rendered  in  drawing-rooms. 

In  England  we  have  a  much-abused  system  of 
actor-manager.  In  many  ways  the  actor-manager 
is  a  menace  because  his  power  over  his  own  theatre 
is  supreme  ;  he  is  able  to  choose  the  parts  that  suit 
himself  and  to  do  the  plays  that  appeal  to  his 
particular  taste ;  no  one  else  has  a  chance  of  per- 
forming what  he  wants.  Even  if  it  is  not  a  suc- 
cess, —  and  success  unfortunately  is  gauged  by  the 
takings  of  the  box-office,  —  the  actor-manager 
can  still  ride  his  hobby-horse  and  may  bring  the 
play  triumphantly  to  the  winning  post  by  educat- 
ing a  public  to  appreciate  his  wares.  The  actor- 
manager  is  all-powerful,  and  the  actor  is  nowhere 
in  England,  unless  a  syndicate  believes  in  him 
sufficiently  to  make  him  an  actor-manager. 

The  American  actor  is  still  more  handi- 
capped ;  he  cannot  even  be  his  own  actor- 
manager.  The  theatres  from  New  York  to  San 
Francisco  seem  to  be  in  the  hands  of  one  or  two 
trusts.  Trusts  may  be  a  form  of  socialism,  mon- 
ied  socialism,  theatrical  socialism,  but  socialism, 


258  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

nevertheless,  and  this  clique  of  theatre  owners 
runs  exactly  what  it  likes,  and  how  it  likes,  and 
whom  it  likes.  If  a  man  or  woman  is  popular 
with  one  of  the  syndicates,  that  man  or  woman  is 
worked  to  death,  but  if  their  form  of  expression 
and  their  line  of  play  do  not  happen  to  fall  in 
with  the  requirements  of  this  theatrical  trust 
system,  or  the  taking  of  so  many  thousands  of 
dollars  at  the  box-office,  it  is  no  use  those  particular 
people  having  any  talent  or  temperament,  for 
they  can  do  nothing  with  it.  They  are  boycotted. 

At  the  New  Year,  1913,  Barrie,  Sutro,  Pinero, 
Shaw,  Galsworthy,  Masefield,  Louis  N.  Parker, 
Fagan,  and  Hichens,  were  all  being  played  in 
America  —  all  British  writers,  and  all  successful. 
We  return  the  compliment  in  England  by  enjoy- 
ing American  musical  comedies  galore,  in  ex- 
change for  our  more  serious  drama.  One  of 
the  great  theatrical  proprietors  told  me  that 
seventy-five  per  cent  of  the  actors  were  English, 
except  in  musical  comedy.  "They  speak  the 
language  better,  and  they  wear  their  clothes  better, 
especially  the  men,"  he  said.  "In  fact,  four  out  of 
five  productions  in  America  are  by  English  or 
French  authors  and  are  acted  by  English  people ; 
and,  of  course,  there  is  no  risk  in  putting  on  a  play 
which  has  had  a  good  run  in  London  or  Paris." 

Sometimes  it  is  greater  to  have  a  brilliant  failure 
than  to  achieve  a  mediocre  monied  success. 


THE  LAND  OF  ASSIMILATION  259 

It  is  always  difficult  for  a  man  of  talent  and  ideas 
and  a  tendency  towards  genius  to  write,  and  be 
tested,  in  that  great  crucible  known  as  "the  public." 
The  public  in  America  is  more  heterogeneous 
than  in  any  other  land,  especially  in  New  York, 
which  is  like  a  great  terminus,  where  all  kinds  and 
conditions  of  people  arrive  and  depart ;  but  they 
leave  their  mark  behind.  Modern  economic  con- 
ditions make  life  strenuous  in  every  land.  People 
begin  their  working  day  early,  end  late,  and  rush 
to  the  theatre  in  a  condition  of  apoplectic  indiges- 
tion for  their  evening  fare.  Is  it  to  be  wondered 
at  that  a  man  should  prefer  to  be  amused  than  to 
be  asked  to  unravel  psychological  problems. 

It  is  sad  that  the  American  man  is  so  dependent 
on  amusement.  He  cannot,  as  a  rule,  sing  or  play 
himself;  he  is  seldom  a  reader;  he  is  too  tired 
to  amuse  others  after  his  day's  work,  and  above 
all  he  does  not  want  to  think.  He  just  wants  to 
be  amused.  That  is  why  high-kicks,  short  skirts, 
humorous  songs,  and  pretty  women  always  draw, 
while  brilliant,  intellectual  plays  appeal  to  smaller 
audiences.  This  is  the  same,  however,  all  the 
world  over.  As  W.  S.  Gilbert  once  said  to  me,  "If 
they  want  rot  they  shall  have  it ;  I  can  write  rot 
as  well  as  anyone  else." 

As  New  York  sets  the  fashion  of  fashions,  so 
New  York  also  sets  the  fashion  of  the  drama. 
Anything  that  is  a  success  there  is  perfectly  certain 


260  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

to  be  a  success  "on  the  road."  Most  of  the  plays 
are  started  off  outside  Manhattan,  so  that  the  act- 
ors may  pull  their  performance  into  shape.  This  is 
called  "trying  it  on  the  dog."  Then  they  come  to 
New  York,  and  in  one  night  their  fate  is  decided, 
though  it  takes  weeks  in  Boston  or  Chicago  to  get  a 
verdict  from  the  public.  If  the  critics  are  united 
in  their  praise,  the  house  next  night  is  full ;  if  the 
critics  are  divided,  the  house  is  half  full ;  if  the 
critics  are  unfavourable,  and  the  house  is  empty 
on  the  third  night,  the  fate  of  the  play  is  sealed, 
and  it  must  be  taken  off. 

America  suddenly  showed  her  originality  in  the 
production  of  "The  Yellow  Jacket."  An  actor 
and  an  author  well  acquainted  with  the  ways  of 
Chinatown  in  San  Francisco  bethought  them- 
selves of  adapting,  making,  and  arranging  a 
Chinese  play,  just  as  nearly  like  a  Chinese 
performance  as  possible.  Assimilation,  of  course. 

It  was  perfectly  delightful.  Just  as  Shake- 
speare was  once  acted  without  scenery,  these  per- 
formers rose  to  the  top  of  several  piled-up  chairs 
as  if  they  were  a  mountain,  and  declaimed  their 
impressions  of  the  scene  below,  until  we  really 
felt  that  it  was  a  mountain.  They  rowed  away  in 
a  boat  that  was  no  boat,  and  yet  we  seemed  to 
see  and  feel  that  boat  moving.  This  excellent 
performance  just  lacked  the  ideal  —  a  harsh  voice 
occasionally  broke  the  spell,  or  a  hideous-toned 


THE  LAND  OF  ASSIMILATION  261 

"Bump  your  head"  would  grate  on  the  ears  of 
the  audience,  when  "  Bend  your  head/'  in  softer 
tones,  would  have  been  so  much  prettier. 

Still  "The  Yellow  Jacket"  was  original.  It 
was  American,  and  it  displayed  imagination. 

Much  of  it  was  in  pantomime  and  to  quaint 
music,  by  William  Fiirst.  Mr.  Benrimo  wisely 
brought  it  to  London,  and  it  had  a  big  success. 

The  public  is  a  fickle  jade,  the  creative  mind  an 
uncertainty ;  consequently,  there  is  much  less 
surety  in  the  production  of  the  creative  brain  than 
in  the  work  of  the  business  man,  and  yet  the  busi- 
ness man  may  receive  —  and  does  receive  —  ten, 
ay,  a  hundred  fold  as  much  return  for  his  output. 

In  America  it  is  especially  so.  One  has  only  to 
read  a  case  like  the  Pujo  Commission  to  see  that  it 
has  been  considered  perfectly  legitimate  to  make 
transactions,  government  transactions,  too,  where- 
by the  returns  have  been  several  hundred  per  cent. 
This  cannot  be  done  in  art,  science,  or  literature. 

Louis  N.  Parker  made  a  brilliant  hit  in  the  States 
in  1912.  He  had  four  successful  plays  running 
at  the  same  time.  Verily  a  record.  In  the  case 
of  two  of  these  plays  the  manager,  after  "trying 
them  out"  in  some  remote  town,  prophesied  barely 
a  week's  run  in  New  York.  He  was  wrong.  One 
never  can  account  for  this  sort  of  thing.  A  man 
writes  two  books ;  one  is  successful  and  the  other 


262  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

is  a  failure,  and  generally  it  is  the  one  he  imagines 
is  going  to  bring  him  fame  and  fortune  that  does 
less  well.  The  same  with  a  play.  It  really  seems 
as  if  there  were  a  pyschological  moment  for  pro- 
duction. Just  at  a  certain  hour  a  certain  thing 
hits  the  public  taste.  Even  the  same  play  or  the 
same  book  produced  at  another  date  may  fall  flat. 

Little  do  they  know  of  the  stage  who  merely 
see  the  play  from  the  stalls. 

At  the  top  of  a  theatre  in  Central  Park,  in  a 
small,  low,  stuffy  room  with  a  skylight,  Louis  N. 
Parker  was  rehearsing  "Joseph  and  his  Brethren.'5 
It  was  bitterly  cold  outside,  all  snow  and  slush  and 
puddles  ;  but  inside  the  heat  was  terrific.  There 
were  thirty  or  forty  people  rehearsing  at  close 
quarters,  and  the  heater  was  overheated. 

At  a  kitchen  table  in  his  shirt-sleeves,  looking 
very  hot  and  very  busy,  with  a  manuscript  be- 
fore him  at  which  he  never  looked,  sat  the  dram- 
atist. 

It  was  the  last  act  of  this  great  religious  drama, 
and  good  as  the  actors  were,  the  finest  of  them 
all  was  the  playwright  himself. 

"A  cry  of  soft  surprise,  please,  gentlemen;  re- 
member, you  have  not  seen  Joseph  for  twenty 
years,"  he  said. 

"Ah,  that  is  better;  step  forward  to  look  at 
him  more  closely,  let  the  cry  swell.  Come  closer 
still,  in  twos  and  threes,  please  —  not  all  together 


THE  LAND  OF  ASSIMILATION  263 

—  and  let  your  cry  become  a  roar  of  joy.     Again, 
please  —  Ah,  that  is  better." 

Then,  turning  to  Joseph,  who  had  just  given  a 
line,  he  said  :  — 

"Not  so  dramatic — a  plaintive  cry  :  I  am  Joseph 
-  not  '  I  am  Joseph,'  but  '  I  am  Joseph'  Very 
humble,  very  gentle,  '  I  am  Joseph.'  Now,  gentle- 
men," turning  to  the  others  again,  "  let  your  sur- 
prised cry  swell  forth  by  contrast.  Thanks ;  yes, 

—  just   so." 

Then  Parker  clapped  his  hands  :  "  Pause,  please, 
and  turn  and  speak  to  one  another  as  if  you  were 
still  uncertain.  Converse  in  low  tones  of  surprise, 
and  you,  Joseph,  must  throw  back  your  arms,  and 
say  again  more  loudly  — '  I  am  Joseph,  your 
brother.' " 

And  so,  on  and  on,  he  went,  giving  light  and 
shade  to  the  speeches,  working  up  the  effects  and 
putting  the  thing  into  shape. 

I  saw  Ibsen  rehearse  in  his  slow,  dull,  heavy 
manner  in  Christiania ;  I  saw  W.  S.  Gilbert  re- 
hearse in  his  determined  but  gentle  way  without 
any  book  at  all  at  the  Savoy ;  and  I  have  seen 
others ;  but  Louis  N.  Parker  is  an  actor  by  in- 
stinct and  a  producer  by  habit. 

He  was  wonderful. 

For  every  inflection,  every  movement,  he  had 
a  reason.  He  was  far  more  often  out  of  his  seat 
than  in  it,  moving  a  bench  or  stool,  showing  a 


264  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

position,  running  up  the  common  wooden  steps 
which  would  later  be  replaced  by  gorgeous  marble 
stairs,  or  falling  prone  to  shew  humiliation  as 
he  wished  it  shewn.  He  was  everywhere,  and 
did  everything.  In  an  hour  these  men  in  tweeds 
and  blue  serge  suits,  these  girls  in  skirts  and 
blouses,  had  thrown  themselves  into  the  situation, 
and  one  almost  saw  the  robes  and  marble  and 
gorgeousness  to  come.  That  was  a  rehearsal. 
The  production  itself  ten  days  later  was  a  brilliant 
success. 

What  an  interesting  man  Parker  is,  too.  Born 
in  France,  his  French  accent  is  perfect.  A  musi- 
cian until  deafness  robbed  him  of  much  of  its  joy, 
Parker  is  a  master  of  Pageantry  as  shewn  in  his 
organisation  of  six  great  English  Pageants.  One 
of  the  kindliest  and  hardest-worked  of  men,  suc- 
cess —  real  success  —  did  not  come  to  him  until 
1912  when  he  was  sixty  years  old.  At  that 
time,  " Drake"  was  running  in  London  to  full 
houses,  besides  the  three  plays  on  the  boards  in 
the  United  States.  "Disraeli"  with  Arliss  ;  "The 
Paper  Chase"  with  Mme.  Simone ;  "Pomander 
Walk"  with  Dorothy  Parker,  his  daughter. 

A  rehearsal  is  a  queer  thing,  more  especially  a 
pantomime  rehearsal.  Pantomime  as  we  know  it 
is  not  known  in  America.  It  has  been  tried  sev- 
eral times,  but  has  been  looked  upon  as  a  childish 
performance  and  abandoned  in  despair.  We 


THE  LAND  OF  ASSIMILATION  265 

think  it  too  grown  up  in  England,  for  the  mod- 
ern pantomime  is  certainly  written  for  the  adult 
and  not  for  the  babe,  and  there  are  as  many,  if 
not  more,  grown-up  people  at  Drury  Lane  every 
Christmas  than  there  are  children,  but  America 
finds  the  good  old  English  pantomime  beneath 
her  dignity. 

Picture  films,  however,  have  come  to  stay  —  and 
Sarah  Bernhardt  in  "  Lucretia  Borgia "  on  the 
screen  was  really  a  revelation.  Those  films  may  be 
carried  to  remote  villages  where  the  people  who 
would  never,  never  have  had  a  chance  of  seeing 
the  finest  living  actress  of  the  day  play  in  person 
can  now  witness  her  art.  That  in  itself  is  a 
triumph. 

The  picture  shows  are  somewhat  ousting  the 
drama.  It  was,  therefore,  interesting  to  go  to  the 
enormous  studio  in  New  York  where  Mr.  Daniel 
Frohman's  company  is  making  these  films.  This 
studio  is  so  colossal  that  there  is  room  for  three 
or  four  big  scenes  to  be  enacted  at  the  same  time. 
When  I  was  there,  they  were  rehearsing  the  duel 
from  "The  Prisoner  of  Zenda,"  with  most  of  the 
original  company  that  played  seventeen  years 
ago  in  the  first  production  ;  James  K.  Hackett 
was  "Rodolph,"  Beatrice  Buckley,  the  "Flavia," 
and  Walter  Hale,  the  "Rupert." 

They  had  built  the  castle  on  the  stage  with 
every  correct  property,  and  duly  rehearsed  the 


266  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

scene  again  and  again,  before  the  photographer 
began  to  work. 

The  soldiers  made  their  entry,  and  their  words 
"It  is  time  to  kill  the  King  !"  rang  through  that 
big  building  as  Hackett  made  his  dramatic  en- 
trance, sword  in  hand.  Mr.  Frohman  directed 
the  rehearsal  himself  as  carefully  as  he  would 
a  scene  from  the  legitimate  drama,  and  when  all 
was  ready,  the  photographs  were  taken. 

Mr.  Daniel  Frohman  is  a  courtly  gentleman, 
tall,  thin,  aesthetic,  a  man  of  taste  and  culture,  and 
keenly  absorbed  in  his  work. 

Minute,  indeed,  is  this  photographic  machine ; 
it  is  not  a  foot  square.  It  reels  off  these  pictures 
on  the  same  principle  as  a  Maxim  gun  fires  its 
deadly  shots.  That  reel  contains  one  thousand  feet 
of  pictures  and  takes  twenty  minutes  to  reproduce 
upon  the  screen.  The  famous  Bernhardt  play, 
which  lasted  an  hour  and  a  half,  covered  five  reels 
of  one  thousand  feet  each.  Sixteen  of  these  little 
pictures  passed  upon  the  screen  in  one  second,  and 
they  are  remarkably  clear  and  sharp,  although  not 
an  inch  square.  There  is  no  doubt  that  this  is  a 
great  invention.  It  was  Edison  who  invented  the 
cinematograph,  and  Eastman  the  celluloid  films. 
In  time  both  will  certainly  become  great  educa- 
tional factors,  for  when  a  man  like  Frohman  is 
prepared  to  spend  five  to  six  thousand  pounds  — 
twenty-five  thousand  dollars  —  on  getting  up  a 


THE  LAND  OF  ASSIMILATION  267 

play  of  this  kind,  Shakespeare  can  be  brought  to 
the  country  village,  historical  plays  can  be  given 
with  appropriate  scenes  in  the  schools,  and  a 
certain  love  of  learning  and  a  vast  amount  of 
education  can  be  instilled  into  the  youthful  mind. 
The  eye  is  so  much  more  receptive  than  the  ear. 

The  salient  scenes  and  speeches  of  Anthony 
Hope's  delightful  "Prisoner  of  Zenda"  had  been 
compressed  sufficiently  to  run  each  act  through  in 
twenty  minutes.  The  actors  were  not  only  dressed, 
but  actually  painted.  Again  and  again  they  re- 
hearsed the  entrances,  the  exits,  the  duel,  the 
falls ;  then  the  photographer  went  to  work. 
They  said  some  of  the  words  so  as  to  strike  the 
right  gestures,  for  time  was  as  important  in  this 
case  as  the  play  itself.  Every  now  and  then  the 
photographer,  who  was  always  looking  through 
his  lens,  made  a  suggestion  of  group  concentra- 
tion, or  Mr.  Frohman  rose  and  made  the  actors 
come  more  to  the  front,  or  told  a  man  to  fall  across 
the  stage,  or  bend,  or  sit ;  or  a  group  was  artisti- 
cally improved.  It  was  indeed  a  bit  of  mosaic 
work  of  deep  interest,  to  attain  the  right  perspec- 
tive for  the  lens.  Actor,  author,  manager,  photog- 
rapher, artist,  costumier,  all  had  to  be  considered 
and  consulted,  to  attain  a  satisfactory  whole. 

The  "Famous  Players'  Film  Company"  rec- 
ognises the  educational  value  of  presenting  "stars" 
of  the  contemporary  stage  in  their  foremost  sue- 


268  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

cesses  in  motion  pictures,  thus  bringing  within  the 
reach  of  all  the  histrionic  wealth  of  the  period. 
It  will  immortalise  the  artistic  gifts  of  actors, 
after  they  have  passed  away. 

The  telephone  bell  rang. 

"Will  you  come  to  supper  to-night  at  the  Plaza 
Hotel  at  eleven  o'clock  ?"  said  a  voice. 

I  hate  suppers  and  late  hours,  and  was  about  to 
frame  a  polite  "No,"  when  the  voice  continued  : — 

"  Beerbohm  Tree  is  only  in  America  for  a  week, 
and  I — Louis  N.  Parker — am  giving  a  little  supper, 
so  come  along  and  join  two  such  old  friends." 

I  accepted.  We  were  twenty-six,  and  we  all  sat 
at  one  table  —  a  table  large  and  round  enough  for 
a  quadrille  to  be  danced  on  its  top. 

The  largest  round  table  I  remember  is  at  Hur- 
lingham.  The  quaintest  is  at  Peterhof,  near  St. 
Petersburg,  where  there  are  round  holes  opposite 
everyone's  seat,  and  each  course  comes  up  from 
the  regions  below  on  its  own  plate  through  the 
hole.  Our  table,  although  a  quaint  idea,  was  as 
liable  to  paralyse  speech  as  a  ball-room  with  wall- 
flowers sitting  all  round  would  be  unconducive 
to  dancing.  But  this  was  a  theatrical  party,  so 
everyone  talked  hard.  When  actors  have  nothing 
else  to  say,  they  can  always  talk  about  their  parts, 
or  themselves,  and  everybody  is  interesting  when 
he  talks  shop. 


THE  LAND  OF  ASSIMILATION  269 

Many  yards  away  from  me,  across  a  vista  of 
candles  and  roses  (for  I  was  next  the  host),  sat 
Sir  Herbert  Beerbohm  Tree,  and  on  his  left  the 
famous  French  actress,  Mme.  Simone  (Le  Bargy), 
who  plays  both  in  French  and  English.  She  is 
small  and  fair,  and  gay,  and  in  a  French  fashion 
wore  a  huge  plumed  hat  with  her  low  dress.  She 
was  exquisitely  gowned.  On  Sir  Herbert's  left 
sat  Elsie  Leslie,  a  fair  American  playing  in  another 
of  Parker's  pieces  —  "Disraeli."  Lennox  Paule, 
an  Englishman,  was  rehearsing  for  Reinhardt's 
"Turandot."  Bessie  Abbott,  who  was  singing  in 
"  Robin  Hood,"  was  both  pretty  and  charming ; 
and  her  husband,  Mr.  Story,  the  sculptor,  was  there 
too.  Then  Miss  Constance  Collier,  ever  handsome 
and  just  free  from  a  long  run  in  "  Oliver  Twist," 
also  had  her  husband,  Julian  L'Estrange,  with  her. 
Both  these  English  folk  have  taken  firm  root  in 
American  hearts.  Jefferson  Winter,  the  talented 
son  of  the  great  dramatic  critic  of  the  States, 
forgot  the  cares  of  the  Press  and  enjoyed  himself. 
Daniel  Frohman  chatted  away  with  Beerbohm 
Tree's  handsome  niece,  Mrs.  Beerbohm.  When 
I  could  tear  myself  away  from  my  host's  good 
stories,  I  found  an  interesting  companion  in 
Monsieur  Francois  Tessan,  of  "  La  Liberte "  in 
Paris.  Mary  Carlisle,  the  miniaturist,  a  sister  of 
Sybil  Carlisle ;  Miss  Dorothy  Parker,  who  is  a 
pretty  little  actress  ;  beautiful  Mrs.  Guiness  of  New 


270  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

York ;  Walter  Creighton,  son  of  the  late  Bishop  of 
London  ;  Mr.  Brandon  Tynan  (who  played  Joseph 
later),  Mr.  Hapgood,  formerly  the  witty  editor 
of  Collier's  Weekly,  and  his  handsome  wife ;  and 
pretty  little  dark-haired  Mrs.  Hardisty,  made  up 
a  most  enjoyable  party. 

Every  one  told  good  stories,  the  host  made  an 
excellent  speech,  and  it  was  after  two  o'clock  be- 
fore that  merry  little  coterie  broke  up. 

The  year  1913  was  dawning,  and  a  steamer,  in 
which  I  was  to  be  borne  to  the  Tropics,  was  getting 
up  her  fires. 

To  lay  a  plan  is  so  easy,  to  hatch  is  so  rare. 


CHAPTER  XI 
TRANSPORTATION 

NEW  YORK  is  perfectly  delightful.  There  are 
many  things  I  love  about  it. 

I  love  the  hospitality  of  its  people. 

I  love  the  charm  of  its  women. 

I  love  their  beautiful  clothes. 

I  love  the  delicious  American  foods. 

But  its  transportation  is  perfectly  vile.  In 
fact,  those  who  are  responsible  for  the  transport 
antics  of  New  York  should,  according  to  my 
mind,  be  transported  themselves  to  another  land 
as  our  convicts  formerly  were  to  Australia ;  for 
that  is  what,  with  us,  the  word  "transportation" 
means. 

In  London,  Paris,  or  Berlin,  when  a  woman 
goes  out  to  dinner,  or  a  theatre,  or  to  the  station, 
she  hails  one  of  the  numerous  taxis  (we  have 
70,000  motor  vehicles  in  London)  and  for  twenty- 
five  cents,  or  at  most  fifty  cents,  is  landed  at  her 
destination,  clean,  and  happy,  and  composed. 
This  cannot  be  done  in  New  York.  Oh  dear,  no. 
Two  or  three  dollars  is  required  to  accomplish  the 
same  distance.  The  taxis  all  seem  born  old,  and 
the  prices  are  prohibitive  to  the  ordinary  traveller. 

271 


272  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

New  York  boasts,  yes,  actually  dares  to  boast, 
that  it  is  easy  to  get  about  within  her  bound- 
aries ;  that  all  the  streets  run  one  way,  and  all  the 
avenues  another.  But  New  York  does  not  realise 
that  there  is  a  little  place  called  Broadway,  which 
does  neither  the  one,  nor  the  other,  but  jiggles 
and  wriggles  about  in  an  utterly  irresponsible 
manner,  from  the  top  to  the  bottom  of  this  throb- 
bing, long,  thin  island-city. 

There  seem  to  be  about  three  times  as  many 
people  as  there  are  conveyances  for  moving  them 
about,  and  New  York  has  not  yet  awakened  to 
the  fact  that  we  slow  old  folk  in  London  convey 
twice  the  number  of  people  at  the  same  time  in  the 
same  car-space.  We  have  up-  and  downstairs  com- 
partments. Into  the  top  usually  climb  the  men 
and  women  who  are  travelling  the  longest  distance. 
Into  the  bottom,  those  who  are  getting  out  a  few 
streets  hence.  No,  dear  New  York  is  old  in  many 
of  its  ways,  and  yet  it  is  so  often  behind  us.  Cars 
are  its  chief  means  of  transit,  and  yet  it  is  content 
to  have  one-storied  cars,  into  which  it  packs  twice 
as  many  people  as  they  will  hold,  who  struggle  and 
fight  for  seats,  of  which  there  are  only  sufficient 
to  accommodate  a  small  percentage  of  the  pas- 
sengers, the  rest  of  whom  endeavour  to  hang  on 
straps.  There  is  not  always  a  strap  for  this  pur- 
pose ;  with  the  result  that  every  time  the  brake  is 
applied  to  the  car,  which  always  seems  a  strenuous 


TRANSPORTATION  273 

performance,  somebody  is  jerked  violently  into 
somebody  else's  lap.  Can  anything  be  more 
amusing  than  to  see  a  fat  old  gentleman  suddenly 
landed  on  the  knee  of  a  dainty  lady  going  to  the 
theatre  "down-town,"  in  her  light  gown  and 
pretty  chiffons  ?  The  car  had  given  a  sudden 
jerk,  and  the  fat  old  gentleman  —  who  happened 
to  be  a  darky  —  had  not  even  had  time  to  clutch  a 
strap,  so  down  he  popped  on  the  pretty  lady's  lap. 

The  occupants  of  the  cars  are  delightfully 
interesting.  There  is  every  sort  of  person  to  be 
seen.  Apparently  the  first  thing  that  a  lower 
middle-class  man  does,  when  he  becomes  suc- 
cessful, is  to  buy  a  diamond  ring,  and  the 
first  thing  that  a  lower  middle-class  girl  does  is 
to  buy  a  pearl  necklace.  I  never  saw  so  many 
diamond  rings  or  so  many  pearl  necklaces  as  are 
visible  daily  in  the  street  cars  of  New  York. 

The  people  are  extraordinarily  good-natured, 
and  generally  smile  as  readily  when  they  get 
a  bump  as  the  audience  titters  at  a  public  dinner 
when  the  photographer  has  half-blinded  them  by 
his  hideous  flash-light. 

Oh,  that  transportation  !  Why  should  so  much 
time  be  wasted  in  this  would-be  bustling  New  York 
by  paying  for  fares  at  the  door  of  the  car  ? 

Why  on  earth  are  not  books,  containing  a 
hundred,  or  fifty,  or,  say  twenty,  five  cent  tickets, 
sold  in  advance  to  the  people,  who  would  merely 


274  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

have  to  drop  one  into  the  box  at  the  entrance, 
instead  of  waiting  to  fuss  about  and  find  their 
purses,  and  get  their  change,  and  generally  hinder 
everybody  else,  coming  along  behind  ?  Why  not 
save  still  more  time  by  instituting  season  tickets  ? 

Every  day  we  English  people  are  told  it  is  "the 
most  magnificent  form  of  city  transportation  in  the 
world/'  so  we  must  lose  our  way  in  the  intricacies 
of  this  New  York  system,  "transfer"  until  our 
brain  reels  and  our  legs  ache,  get  into  the  wrong 
cars,  be  bumped  until  we  are  black  and  blue,  and 
smile  and  pretend  we  like  it. 

As  the  car  often  runs  underneath  the  overhead 
railway,  the  double  roar  of  the  train  clattering 
over  the  iron  girders  above,  the  traffic  on  the 
square-set  stones  at  the  sides,  and  the  noise  of  the 
car  itself  makes  a  veritable  nerve-racking  din. 

An  English  girl  and  I  perfectly  petrified  the  car 
conductors  by  jumping  off  and  on  the  trams  while 
they  were  moving.  They  seemed  to  think  it  the 
most  dangerous  thing  in  the  world,  and  could  not 
believe  that  in  London  we  were  in  the  habit  of 
jumping  off  and  on  as  the  motor-buses  gently 
slowed  down,  instead  of  requiring  the  huge  ve- 
hicle to  stop  for  us  to  step  off.  Will  they  never 
believe  in  New  York  that  Englishwomen  can  do 
things  quickly  ?  Really  New  York  would  be  quite 
delightful  were  it  not  for  the  expense  and  fatigue 
of  getting  about.  Oh,  for  one  of  our  Lady  Guides 


TRANSPORTATION  275 

Bureaux  in  New  York  !  Think  of  the  joy  of  being 
able  to  engage  a  lady  a  few  hours  a  day  to  shop 
and  steer  one  about,  to  save  headaches  and  worry 
and  wasted  money.  Anyone  who  looks  quiet  and 
neat  to-day  is  probably  a  lady,  anyone  who  looks 
smart  is  probably  a  cocotte,  or  wants  to  be.  The 
art  of  wearing  improper  clothes  properly  is  a  gift, 
just  as  everyone  seems  rich  until  one  lifts  the  lid 
of  their  cash  box. 

Will  New  York  never  cease  mending  its  roads  ? 
Five  times  I  have  visited  the  city,  and  each  time 
they  seem  harder  at  it  than  ever.  The  main  streets 
are  perfect ;  but  many  of  the  side-streets  are  dis- 
gracefully paved.  One's  heart  aches  to  see  beauti- 
ful motor-cars  switchbacked  over  holes  in  the 
roadway,  or  across  loose  boards  laid  carelessly 
down.  Street  lakes  are  universal.  In  fine  weather 
these  holes  assert  themselves  by  switchback  bumps 
to  the  motor  (called  "automobile"  in  the  States 
for  shortness)  ;  in  wet  weather  they  have  to  be 
circumnavigated  with  respect. 

Perhaps  the  New  Yorkers  are  like  the  penguins. 
I  had  a  particular  friend  of  that  species  at  the 
London  Zoological  Gardens.  This  delightfully 
human  personage,  with  his  large  body  and  tiny 
legs,  lived  in  a  little  garden  where  he  took  his  daily 
constitutional,  round  and  round  a  broken  concrete 
path.  I  used  to  love  to  watch  him  trip-up  again 
and  again  over  his  badly  paved  road  ;  he  was  very 


276  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

wise  in  other  ways,  so  he  probably  knew  exactly 
when  to  lift  his  little  feet ;  but  he  doggedly  pre- 
ferred to  be  jerked  forward  and  lose  his  balance 
month  after  month  rather  than  alter  his  habits. 
Habit  is  a  hard  taskmaster.  One  day  the  authori- 
ties mended  his  path.  The  old  penguin  died  of 
grief. 

Passing  along  the  streets  one  notices  numerous 
different  reminders  of  other  lands,  the  stamp  of 
foreign  invasion,  to  whit --the  greengrocers. 
There  are  large  open  counters,  placed  well  down  in 
the  street,  whereon  every  form  of  vegetable  and 
fruit  is  displayed,  giving  a  foreign  and  attractive 
appearance  to  the  shop.  No  doubt  this  style  of 
brightly  hued,  open,  greengrocery  stores  has  come 
from  Italy,  just  as  the  pretty  little  clay  pots  so 
often  displayed  for  flowers  and  plants,  in  florists' 
shops,  are  made  by  the  Italian  immigrants,  who 
have  brought  their  art  with  them  to  the  American 
shores. 

Then  again,  the  barbers'  shops,  with  their 
many-coloured  poles,  and  the  three  balls  of  the 
pawnbroker,  to  say  nothing  of  the  sign-boards 
one  finds  hanging  out  everywhere,  remind  one  of 
Great  Britain  of  old.  Many  centuries  ago  every 
shop  in  England  had  these  sign-boards  hung  out, 
because  the  people  could  not  read.  Even  to-day, 
the  village  inn  still  displays  its  sign  to  attract  the 
passer-by.  The  sign-board,  however,  has  largely 


TRANSPORTATION  277 

disappeared  in  London,  although  it  is  still  to  be 
seen  in  some  of  our  old  provincial  towns,  and 
continually  in  New  York. 

Not  only  does  the  sign-board  exist  in  Russia 
to-day,  but  every  small  Russian  shop  is  placarded 
with  pictures  denoting  what  it  has  for  sale  inside. 
On  one  wall  are  coloured  drawings  of  bonnets  and 
hats,  on  another  sausages  and  hams ;  all  its  wares 
are  painted  outside.  The  same  applies  to  Mexico, 
where  the  people  who  cannot  read  can  easily  find 
what  they  want  from  the  picture  writing.  These 
mural  illustrations  may  be  seen  in  New  York 
to-day.  Then  again,  one  finds  a  strong  French 
element.  There  are  little  kiosks  everywhere 
from  which  newspapers  are  dispensed.  They 
are  not  so  tall,  nor  so  pretty  as  the  kiosks 
on  the  boulevards  in  Paris,  and  are  often  tucked 
away  under  the  staircase  of  the  overhead  railway, 
but  still,  they  are  there,  to  remind  one  of  the 
French  capital,  and  washed  blouses  are  hung  up 
and  stuffed  with  coloured  paper,  just  as  they  are 
in  Paris. 

America  is  full  of  foreign  ways. 

New  York  has  many  cities  within  its  city; 
real  cities,  conservative  strongholds.  Look  at 
Chinatown  on  the  east  side  of  Manhattan  Island  ; 
it  is  a  whole  district  given  up  to  the  Chinese. 
The  sign-boards  are  written  in  their  characters, 
the  windows  are  full  of  their  wares.  Extraordi- 


278  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

nary  dried  fish  make  a  veritable  fringe  over  their 
doorways ;  enormous  vegetables,  and  small  boxes 
of  compressed  tea  are  to  be  seen  on  every  side. 
They  have  their  restaurants,  their  shops,  their 
newspapers.  They  have,  in  fact,  a  Chinese  town. 
They  even  had  their  own  theatre,  but  it  became 
such  a  haunt  of  vice  that  it  had  to  be  abolished. 
There  are  many  Chinese  men,  but  few  Chinese 
women,  and  it  gives  one  a  little  shudder  to  see  a 
nice  American  woman  married  to  one  of  these 
Orientals.  Everything  is  clean  in  this  quarter, 
neat,  orderly,  tidy. 

On  passing  into  the  next  street,  all  is  changed. 
This  is  the  Italian  stronghold.  Here  can  be  seen 
macaroni,  more  vegetables,  coloured  scarves,  and 
dirty  garbage  on  the  side-walks  (pavements). 
Everything  is  untidy  and  slipshod.  The  names 
of  the  people  and  the  goods  they  sell  are  placarded 
up  Italian  on  every  side. 

Round  the  next  corner  is  the  German  quarter. 
Each  of  these  nations  has  its  own  particular 
district :  the  Spanish,  the  Scandinavian,  the  Rus- 
sian, the  Turk,  the  Greek,  the  Servian,  the  French, 
the  German,  and  the  Jew.  They  each  have  their 
own  particular  newspapers,  and  they  each  live 
their  own  particular  lives ;  they  say  newspapers 
are  published  in  forty  different  languages  on  Man- 
hattan Island.  As  they  learn  English,  and  gradu- 
ally get  on,  these  foreigners  leave  their  own  racial 


TRANSPORTATION  279 

haunts  and  start  forth  into  the  bigger  world  out- 
side to  make  their  fortunes.  They  are  all  ambi- 
tious to  make  money  and  ride  in  golden  coaches, 
and  just  a  small  percentage  succeed. 

Another  relic  of  another  land  is  to  be  seen  in 
the  Indian  figures  made  of  wood,  life  size,  painted 
in  brilliant  colours,  standing  outside  tobacconists' 
shops.  This  used  formerly  to  be  one  of  the  signs 
in  England,  and  there  is  a  Scotchman  in  Highland 
dress  near  Tottenham  Court  Road  in  London,  who 
has  become  quite  historical.  He  is  almost  the  only 
one  of  his  kind  left  in  our  metropolis,  and  on  nights 
of  jubilation  or  festivity,  the  students  of  Univer- 
sity College  Hospital,  near  by,  hire  the  gentleman 
out  for  the  night,  and  hoist  him  on  their  shoulders, 
marching  him  along  the  streets  to  patriotic  and 
amusing  songs.  The  story  of  the  Scotchman  on 
Mafeking  night  might  fill  a  volume.  He  survived  it 
all,  and  is  still  reposing  outside  the  little  tobac- 
conist's shop,  waiting  for  another  festive  occasion, 
on  which  to  perambulate  the  streets  on  the  shoul- 
ders of  the  youthful  fraternity  of  medical  students. 

We  really  must  take  to  "gums"  in  England. 
Not  gum-drops,  nor  gum  ("mucilage,"  as  the 
American  briefly  calls  it !)  for  pasting  letters,  but 
gum  rubbers.  Not  rubbers  for  washing  dishes 
or  floors,  but  rubbers  for  foot-gear  —  what  we 
call  goloshes  —  a  word  as  unknown  in  the  States 
as  rubbers  and  gums  are  in  England. 


280  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

Rubbers  are  an  American  national  institution, 
and  the  sooner  we  take  to  them  the  better ;  they 
are  cleanly,  they  are  sensible,  they  prevent  wet 
feet  and  bad  colds ;  gums  are  adorable.  One 
wears  nice  thin  stockings  and  smart  shoes,  puts  on 
rubbers,  and  sallies  fearlessly  forth  into  the  mud 
and  rain.  In  every  hall  is  a  chair.  Down  one 
pops,  extricates  one's  feet  from  their  outside  covers, 
and  with  clean  shoes,  walks  into  my  lady's  draw- 
ing-room, often  called  "parlour"  by  our  Yankee 
friends.  I  simply  love  gums,  and  recommend  them 
as  delightful.  They  are  universally  used  in  North 
America,  Canada,  Russia,  and  Scandinavia,  and  we 
too  must  wake  up,  and  use  them.  In  universally 
adopting  this  excellent  habit  we  really  have  been 
slow. 

New  Yorkers  are  still  having  boots  blacked  at 
odd  corners,  they  are  still  enduring  the  sight  of 
dust-bins  in  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  in  the 
best  thoroughfares,  and  they  have  more  darkies 
than  ever,  and  more  magnificent  stores.  They 
still  talk  of  us  as  "mighty  slow,"  and  themselves 
as  "mighty  quick."  They  forget  that  our  letter 
post  crosses  London  in  a  couple  of  hours,  while 
theirs  sometimes  takes  a  couple  of  days.  They  do 
not  realise  that  we  can  buy  a  thing  at  a  shop  in 
the  morning  and  have  it  delivered  before  tea-time 
in  the  afternoon,  while  they  are  lucky  if  they  get 
it  next  day.  They  still  think  that  we  are  very 


TRANSPORTATION  281 

slow  in  London,  and  imagine  that  we  are  living  in 
the  fifteenth  century  on  our  side  of  the  globe. 
They  still  charge  much  more  for  their  telegrams 
than  we  do,  and  one  cannot  prepay  the  reply  to 
save  time.  They  are  only  just  struggling  with  the 
joys  of  a  parcels  post,  and  they  still  omit  to  put  the 
numbers  of  their  telephones  on  their  private  letters. 

Wake  up,  Brother  Jonathan,  you  are  more 
asleep  than  you  are  aware  of ;  your  strenuousness 
is  often  mere  formula. 

When  will  the  States  rouse  up,  and  copy  some 
of  our  time-saving  systems !  Dear  old  Uncle 
Sam,  you  really  do  nap  sometimes. 

For  instance  in  England,  I  write  a  twelve-word 
wire  to  Jones,  that  costs  sixpence  or  one  cent  a 
word.  In  the  corner  of  the  form  is  an  allotted 
space  on  which  I  put  "R.P.";  these  two  letters 
are  not  charged  for,  but  denote  that  sixpence  has 
been  given  for  a  paid  reply.  When  that  telegram 
arrives  at  its  destination,  it  is  typed  off  and  a 
reply-form  is  put  with  it  into  the  envelope.  The 
boy,  who  delivers  it  (on  a  bicycle  if  its  destina- 
tion is  in  the  country),  waits  because  he  knows 
it  is  reply  paid.  Time  is  saved  —  also  temper. 

But  the  telephones  !  Ah,  there  you  beat  us 
hollow  in  everything  except  price.  Your  girls 
answer  more  quickly,  the  service  is  decidedly 
better,  and  the  telephone  is  more  universally  used. 
Take  a  town  like  Chicago,  which  is  only  about 


282  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

one  third  the  size  of  London,  the  telephone  book 
is  about  twice  as  big  as  our  own,  which,  speaking 
roughly,  would  lead  one  to  believe  that  the  tele- 
phone is  used  three  times  as  much  in  Chicago  as 
in  London.  It  is  more  prompt  and  more  efficient. 

There  are  delightful  telephones  in  every  bed- 
room at  the  good  hotels.  There  is  quick  connec- 
tion, and  the  whole  telephonic  system  is  excellent ; 
they  discovered  it,  and  they  maintain  it  at  a 
point  of  excellence.  In  inverse  ratio  the  postal 
arrangements  are  atrocious. 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  I  have  often  consider- 
able difficulty  in  understanding  the  American 
voice  on  the  telephone,  and  they  are  often  totally 
unable  to  comprehend  my  English  accent.  The 
telephone  girl  can  rarely  catch  what  number  I  am 
asking  for,  and  I  have  to  repeat  and  repeat;  until 
she  understands  my  English  intonation. 

In  England  we  pay  twopence  for  a  telephone 
call  at  a  public  place,  which  is  four  cents  ;  and  the 
charge  is  half  that  sum  in  a  private  house.  In 
America  it  is  more  than  double.  In  fact,  in 
American  hotels  one  has  to  pay  ten  cents  (or  five- 
pence)  for  every  single  call ;  so  no  wonder  it  is 
quicker.  They  can  afford  to  have  two  operators 
to  our  one  at  that  price. 

The  Britisher  wonders  how  the  American,  who 
prides  himself  on  being  practical  and  doing  things 
quickly,  manages  to  exist  without  a  post-office. 


TRANSPORTATION  283 

It  is  one  of  the  most  difficult  things  imaginable  in 
a  Yankee  town  to  find  a  post-office  at  all ;  as  diffi- 
cult, indeed,  as  to  unearth  a  newspaper  shop  in 
London.  Both  are  few  and  far  between  ;  they  are 
seldom  in  a  prominent  position  ;  in  fact,  they  have 
an  air  of  being  thoroughly  ashamed  of  themselves 
and  hiding  round  back  corners.  Having  found  the 
post-office,  it  takes  an  extraordinary  time  to  find 
out  what  one  wants.  No  one  is  in  a  hurry  as  regards 
letters  in  the  States,  and  as  for  parcels  and  pack- 
ages, they  have  wandered  about  that  vast  country 
at  their  own  sweet  will.  I  left  my  watch  in  the 
West  to  be  cleaned.  A  magnificent  shop  informed 
me  that  it  would  take  ten  days ;  but  it  was  five 
solid  weeks  before  that  watch  was  returned  to  my 
possession,  because,  in  some  mysterious  manner, 
everyone  seemed  to  have  mislaid  it,  and  as  it  could 
not  follow  me  by  parcels  post  (there  was  no  such 
thing  at  Christmas,  1912),  it  had  to  be  sent  by 
express  or  registered  mail  !  Much  extra  delay 
was  caused  by  the  fact  that  it  could  not  easily  be 
readdressed  without  my  signature,  and  much  nego- 
tiation had  to  be  gone  through  before  it  could  be 
sent  on  from  one  town  to  another. 

But  America  was  quite  content  without  a  par- 
cels post  till  1913.  They  did  not  hurry  themselves 
about  that,  did  they  ?  All  Europe  was  ahead  of 
them,  and  wide  awake,  while  Uncle  Sam  gently 
slumbered.  Oh,  you  dear  old  rascal,  you  are  so 


284  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

busy  telling  yourself,  and  telling  us,  and  telling 
everybody  else,  how  advanced  you  are,  that 
Europe  often  passes  you  by  before  you  have  real- 
ised the  fact,  and  leaves  you  still  talking. 

Letters  in  America  take  just  as  long  as  they 
please.  They  meander  across  the  country  at 
their  own  sweet  will  unless  the  writer  is  extrav- 
agant enough  to  spend,  not  twice,  but  five  times 
the  amount  of  postage,  and  affix  a  "special 
delivery"  stamp.  Then  that  letter,  with  five 
pence  (ten  cents)  upon  it,  arrives  at  the  proper 
time  as  all  self-respecting  letters  ought  to  do 
always,  without  a  surtax. 

Even  letter-boxes  have  their  own  characteristi- 
cally shy  ways.  It  is  difficult  for  a  Britisher  to  find 
a  letter-box  in  America.  In  the  first  place,  it  is 
not  called  a  letter-box  at  all,  it  is  called :  — 

"FOR   MAIL." 

There  are  not  such  things  as  letters  or  posts  in  the 
States  ;  they  are  called  "mail." 

In  England,  at  the  street  corner,  stands  a  great 
big  red  pillar-box.  It  can  be  seen  from  afar,  and 
by  pushing  the  lid  inwards,  all  the  letters  drop  to 
the  bottom.  In  Germany,  bright,  very  bright  blue 
boxes  ornamented  with  gold,  are  stuck  on  the  walls 
of  buildings,  notifying  that  they  are  for  letters. 

In  America  the  stranger  looks  about  until  he  is 
lucky  enough  to  find  a  dark  green,  unpretentious 


TRANSPORTATION 


«»  IT 


Drawn  by  W'.  K.  Haselden.    Reproduced  by  permission  of  (he  London  Daily  Mirror. 

ARE  THE  AMERICAN  POLICE  REALLY  so  NAUGHTY? 


286  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

box,  fixed  to  some  lamp-post ;  he  would  never 
notice  it,  if  he  did  not  look  hard  to  find  it.  That 
is  the  letter-box.  Having  found  it,  his  troubles 
begin.  If  he  is  carrying  parcels  or  an  umbrella, 
woe  betide  him.  The  lid  does  not  push  in  by  the 
pressure  of  the  letter  (mail,  please)  ;  the  whole 
thing  has  to  be  lifted  up  bodily  by  one  hand,  while 
the  envelope  is  inserted  with  the  other.  Any- 
thing more  wasteful  of  time,  or  exasperating  to 
temper  I  do  not  know,  especially  in  the  winter, 
when  one's  hands  are  full. 

One  may  walk  street  after  street,  —  block  after 
block,  they  call  it,  —  and  not  find  any  pillar-box  at 
all. 

Ah,  joy  of  joys,  there  is  a  real  red  letter-box  at 
last.  Having  searched  in  vain  for  something  large 
and  imposing  and  easily  seen,  not  even  noticing 
the  queer  little  boxes  on  lamp-posts  at  odd  cor- 
ners, that  are  not  worthy  of  a  country  village,  we 
make  for  that  red  box  with  joy.  Here  at  last  is 
something  worthy  of  the  United  States  mail  and  a 
fitting  depository  for  a  large  bundle  of  letters  and 
important  papers.  Oh,  the  disappointment  ! 

"WASTE   PAPER  AND    FRUIT  SKINS" 

is  written  in  large  white  lettering  upon  the  only 

important-looking  thing  that  might  be  a  pillar-box. 

Letters  don't  count  for  much  in  America  judging 

by  the  casual  way  in  which   they  are   treated. 


TRANSPORTATION  287 

Their  receptacles  are  far  from  noble,  and  their 
speed  of  transit  is  only  phenomenal  for  its  sluggish- 
ness. For  a  business  land,  it  is  amazing  that 
people  can  put  up  with  such  a  slovenly  postal 
system. 

Of  course  I  love  New  York.  Who  would  not 
love  a  place  where  one  has  been  five  or  six  times, 
and  has  so  many  friends  ?  Could  anything  be  more 
charming  than  to  wander  over  the  gallery  of  the 
late  Mr.  J.  Pierpont  Morgan,  to  be  shown  over  the 
Metropolitan  Museum  which  is  fast  becoming  one 
of  the  first  museums  of  the  world,  or  the  splendid 
Natural  History  Museum,  by  people  who  know  all 
about  such  buildings.  To  be  feted  and  feasted 
at  beautiful  restaurants  or  in  interesting  clubs,  or 
better  still,  in  their  private  houses.  Homes  rep- 
resent individuality  in  a  way  no  public  place  can 
do.  It  was  delightful  to  have  met  and  been  en- 
tertained by  such  people  as  Mr.  Roosevelt, 
Mrs.  Taft,  Mr.  J.  P.  Morgan,  Mrs.  O.  H.  P. 
Belmont,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Edwin  Hewitt,  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Carnegie,  Mrs.  Dryden  Brewer,  Mr. 
Thomas  Edison,  Miss  Ida  Tarbell,  Mr.  Robert 
Little  Mackee,Mr.  and  Mrs.  S.  Untermyer,Col.  and 
Mrs.  Aldace  Walker,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Robert  Walker, 
Miss  Jeanette  Gilder,  Mrs.  Farnam,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Arthur  Curtis  James,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Adolph  Ochs, 
Kate  Douglas  Wiggin  (Mrs.  Riggs),  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Thorn pson-Seton,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bleecker  van 


288  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

Wagenen,  Dr.  Chas.  Davenport,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Doubleday,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Fabian  Franklin,  Mrs. 
Henry  Villard,  Mrs.  W.  Pierson  Hamilton,  Mr. 
Edward  Bulkley,  Mr.  Spencer  Trask,  Madame 
Grouitch,  Dr.  Horace  Howard  Furness,  Jr.,  Mrs. 
Weir,  Professor  and  Mrs.  Marshall  Saville,  Miss 
Gildersleeve  (Barnard  College),  Mr.  William  Mor- 
row, Miss  Reid  (Mothercraft),  Mrs.  Carlyle 
Bellairs,  Mrs.  Hodgson-Burnett,  Dr.  and  Mrs. 
Ayer,  Miss  Agnes  Laut,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Alexander 
Drake,  Mr.  A.  S.  Frissell,  Commodore  Bentick, 
Mrs.  L.  H.  Chapin,  Mr.  Louis  N.  Parker,  Miss 
Laure  Drake  Gill,  Mr.  James  L.  Ford,  Miss  Annie 
Tweedie,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Richard  Gilder,  Mr. 
Joseph  B.  Gilder,  Mr.  Dunlop  Hopkins,  Mr.  David 
Bispham,  Mr.  Clifford  Smyth,  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Louis 
L.  Seaman,  Mr.  Herbert  Carr,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  J.  H. 
Coit,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Johnson,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Andre\v 
Miller,  Judge  and  Mrs.  Miller,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Reiker, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Fred  Pierson,  Mr.  C.  C.  Buel,  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Oliphant,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Elijah  Sells,  Mr.  John 
Martin,  Mr.  Ripley  Hitchcock,  Mr.  Frank  Scott, 
Mr.  Morgan  Shepard,  Mr.  Edward  Dodd,  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  W.  Carmen  Roberts,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sawyer, 
Mr.  John  Morrow,  Miss  Cutting,  Mrs.  Curtis 
Demarest,  Colonel  Page  Bryan,  Mr.  W.  C.  Reich, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Prince,  of  New  Jersey,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
William  Baldwin. 
Although  the  homes  that  have  kindly  invited 


TRANSPORTATION  289 

me  within  their  portals  have  been  representative 
of  all  that  is  best  and  cleverest  in  the  States,  I  have 
never  lost  an  opportunity  of  talking  to  Americans 
in  railway  cars,  in  street-cars  (trams),  in  hotels ; 
"  hoi  polloi"  is  always  interesting,  and  represent- 
ative of  another  phase  of  life,  and  it  is  from  them 
one  gets  impressions. 

London  is  miles  behind  New  York  in  its  pro- 
cedure for  calling  cabs  and  carriages  after  enter- 
tainments. In  London,  it  is  a  haphazard  sort  of 
performance,  without  order  or  method,  except  in  a 
few  cases,  such  as  at  Buckingham  Palace.  There 
a  splendid  system  of  duplicate  numbers  has  been 
organised,  by  which  the  chauffeur  keeps  one,  and  the 
owner  of  the  car  the  other.  With  the  aid  of  a 
telephone  from  the  Palace  itself  to  the  gates,  and  a 
megaphone,  much  difficulty  and  trouble  are  averted. 
But  after  the  theatres  the  muddle  in  London  is 
horrid,  especially  on  wet  nights. 

There  are  several  excellent  systems  in  America. 
One  the  telephone,  and  another  the  arrangements 
for  calling  cabs  at  public  buildings.  As  one  enters 
the  theatre  or  concert-hall  two  tickets,  numbered 
in  duplicate,  are  given,  one  to  the  driver,  and 
one  to  the  owner  of  the  car  or  carriage.  On  coming 
out  from  the  building,  one  gives  up  the  little  slip 
of  paper  on  which  is  printed  the  number  —  sup- 
pose it  to  be  "  174"  —  to  the  porter,  who  takes  it, 


290  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

and,  in  turn  with  other  numbers,  puts  "174"  in 
electric  lights  on  a  sort  of  sign-board  hanging 
above  the  entrance  to  the  theatre ;  this  is  large 
enough  to  be  seen  by  all  the  drivers  of  carriages  on 
the  rank.  Therefore,  there  is  none  of  that  running 
about  and  yelling,  so  worrying  after  an  English 
entertainment.  If  the  line  is  particularly  long,  too 
long  for  all  the  drivers  to  see  the  electric  light 
indicator,  an  attendant  belonging  to  the  theatre 
stands  halfway  down  the  line  with  a  megaphone, 
and  calls  out  each  number  loudly  and  lustily  as  it 
is  put  up  ;  so  that  the  tag  end  of  the  drivers  of  the 
vehicles  may  hear.  This  works  so  quickly  and 
well,  that  the  public  buildings  are  emptied  in  a 
twinkling. 

Another  excellent  plan  is  the  way  every  play-bill 
has  attached  to  it  a  copy  of  the  plan  of  the  house, 
on  which  is  distinctly  marked  every  exit,  and  the 
passages  by  which  a  certain  street  is  reached.  This 
diagram  is  compulsory  since  that  awful  fire  in 
Chicago,  when  six  hundred  people  were  burned  to 
death  in  twenty  minutes. 

Why  do  we  not  also  copy  the  Americans  and 
warm  our  churches  properly  ? 

St.  Patrick's  Cathedral,  with  its  lovely  interior, 
is  delightfully  heated.  Instead  of  entering  with  a 
cold  shiver,  and  getting  out  as  quickly  as  possible 
from  a  vault-like  atmosphere,  one  revels  in  the 
beauty  of  the  building  and  the  warmth  of  the 


TR  ANSPORTATI  ON  29 1 

air.  Prayers  are  none  the  less  efficacious  for 
being  said  in  comfortable  surroundings,  although 
folk  bent  on  pilgrimage  will  deny  the  fact,  as  they 
court  torture  and  misery  as  part  of  the  penance. 

Where  are  the  dogs  ? 

One  hardly  ever  sees  a  dog  in  the  streets.  Are 
there  fewer  dogs,  or  are  they  never  taken  out  ? 
Constantinople  has  too  many.  New  York  has  too 
few.  As  the  streets  are  so  crowded  it  is  perhaps 
as  well,  and  there  are  no  dear  little  islands  of  refuge, 
oases  on  which  one  can  feel  safe  and  happy  in  the 
great  rush  of  traffic.  The  fat,  burly,  Irish  police 
force  has  greatly  improved  during  the  last  few 
years,  and  the  traffic  is  much  better  organised,  the 
improvement  in  the  traffic  regulation  being  very 
marked. 

But  to  return  to  "  transportation." 

Of  course,  everyone  who  goes  to  America  is 
expected  to  admire  the  baggage  check  system ; 
but  people  who  have  had  as  much  experience  of  it 
as  I  have,  will  cease  to  find  the  "express"  so  wonder- 
ful as  it  seems.  It  seems  excellent  to  receive  a 
check  for  baggage,  and  to  know  that  it  will  be  quite 
safe,  even  if  not  called  for  until  some  days  later, 
and  that  any  one  taking  the  check  with  the  num- 
ber on  it  can  identify  the  package.  But  the  ex- 
press business  is  not  so  satisfactory.  For  instance, 
when  arriving  in  Chicago  one  Sunday  afternoon, 


292  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

by  the  Twentieth  Century  Express  from  New  York, 
which  claims  to  be  the  finest  train  in  the  world, 
and  probably  is,  with  its  reading-rooms,  bath-rooms, 
paper  bags  to  keep  one's  hat  clean,  barber,  stenog- 
rapher, and  so  on,  I  paid  the  expressman  who 
boarded  the  train  outside  Chicago  three  dollars, 
or  twelve  shillings,  to  deliver  four  packages.  He 
gave  me  my  four  tickets,  and  assured  me  they 
would  arrive  that  afternoon ;  it  was  then  about 
three  o'clock. 

Off  I  drove  in  my  friend's  motor,  with  my  hand 
luggage,  or  "grips,"  as  Americans  call  them,  but 
as  there  were  people  to  dine  that  night,  I  felt  a 
little  uneasy  about  the  delay  of  my  big  trunks 
with  a  change  of  raiment.  Hour  after  hour  went 
by ;  they  never  came.  I  dined  at  that  party  in 
the  clothes  I  had  worn  thirty-six  hours  before  in 
New  York.  Not  until  eleven  o'clock  next  morning 
did  that  "express"  cart  choose  to  bring  those 
four  boxes  to  the  door.  Of  course,  when  they  at 
last  delivered  them  it  was  done  well,  and  they 
carried  them  up  to  the  rooms ;  but  the  express 
system  is  never  to  be  relied  on  for  rapidity,  judging 
from  my  own  personal  experiences.  It  is  quite 
possible  to  wait  twelve  or  eighteen  hours  for  the 
delivery  of  one's  baggage,  "luggage"  we  call  it. 
When  the  check  system  acts  properly  and  quickly, 
it  is  excellent. 


CHAPTER  XII 

AN   ENGLISHWOMAN'S   FIRST  NIGHT  ON  AN 
AMERICAN  SLEEPING-CAR 

"An,  wait  till  you  cross  the  Atlantic,  then  you 
will  know  what  real  comfort  in  travelling  means." 

How  often  had  this  been  said  to  me  at  home  and 
abroad.  And  after  that  remark,  I,  poor  soul,  — 
who  had  travelled  pretty  well  all  over  Europe,  far 
into  regions  where  no  sleeping-car  exists,  when  a 
cart,  a  table,  a  floor,  even  a  sack  of  hay  beneath  a 
tent,  had  been  my  couch,  —  felt  I  knew  naught  of 
travelling  until  I  had  enjoyed  a  night  in  a  United 
States  Pullman  car. 

Where  my  first  night's  journey  at  the  beginning 
of  this  century  was  performed  shall  be  nameless ; 
but  since  then  I  have  spent  fifty  or  sixty  nights  in 
American  trains. 

Going  to  the  hotel  office,  I  said  I  wished  a  berth 
engaged  for  that  particular  night  to  M — . 

"Yes,  ma'am"  (not  "mum,"  if  you  please,  but 
"ma'am,"  as  in  "jam")  ;  "upper  or  lower  ?" 

"I  don't  understand,"  I  falteringly  replied. 

"Section?"  he  inquired.  I  suppose  I  looked 
stupid,  for  the  question  was  repeated. 

"What  do  you  mean  ?"  I  ventured  to  ask. 

293 


294  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

"  Upper  is  above,  I  guess ;  lower  is  just  what  it 
says  —  a  lower ;  section  is  the  whole  thing,  and 
costs  double/' 

It  was  all  very  bewildering;  but  ultimately  I 
ordered  a  "lower"  ;  adding,  "  For  a  woman,  please." 

"That's  all  the  same,"  replied  the  clerk.  "We 
don't  make  no  difference  over  here ;  men  and 
women  just  ride  along  alike." 

I  paid  three  dollars  (twelve  shillings)  and  waited, 
with  anxious  anticipation,  for  the  joys  of  the  jour- 
ney, which  were  to  reveal  what  real  comfort  and 
luxury  during  a  night  "on  the  cars"  meant. 

It  was  ten  o'clock  at  night,  and  dark  and  raining 
when  I  arrived  at  that  splendid  station,  feeling  very 
lonely  and  perhaps  a  little  homesick.  I  sought  a 
porter  —  but  I  looked  in  vain.  No  porter  was 
forthcoming  to  carry  my  bags.  Here  was  a  pretty 
position  for  a  woman  alone.  So  I  struggled  with 
my  hand-bag,  which  felt  appallingly  heavy,  and 
grew  heavier  and  heavier  as  I  staggered  along  the 
platform.  My  fur  coat  seemed  to  weigh  a  ton. 
At  last  the  car  came  in  sight ;  but  the  door  was 
not  level  with  the  platform  —  oh  no,  not  a  bit  of 
it.  One  had  to  wrestle  with  "grip"  and  coat  and 
umbrellas,  and  clamber  up  the  tall  steps  leading 
into  the  handsome  Pullman  car.  Platform  there 
was  none. 

Oh,  what  a  disillusion  presented  itself. 

One  long  car  with  top  and  bottom  berths  along 


FIRST  NIGHT  ON  A  SLEEPING-CAR       295 


296  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

both  sides  like  shelves  in  a  bookcase,  before  which 
thick,  stuffy  curtains  were  hanging,  so  that  only  a 
narrow  passageway  could  be  seen.  A  coloured 
man  (or  "porter,"  as  he  is  called),  in  a  neat  white 
suit,  was  a  very  black  negro,  whose  white  teeth 
and  eyes  seemed  to  gleam  unnaturally  in  the  gas- 
light ;  for,  be  it  mentioned,  the  cars  were  not  lighted 
with  electric  light  twelve  years  ago.  Nowadays 
there  is  a  lovely  idea  for  electric  lights.  By  day  it 
looks  like  an  ornament  to  the  car  ;  but  one  lifts  the 
metal  half-globe,  and  the  act  of  moving  up  brings 
out  and  illuminates  an  electric  bulb.  Splendid 
idea.  Being  covered  by  metal  all  day,  it  is  safe 
from  harm,  and  yet  it  is  there  whenever  it  is  wanted. 
This  is  a  delightful  innovation ;  but  the  Pullman 
sleeper  itself  remains  as  terrible  as  ever.  It  has 
become  an  American  institution,  and  America  is 
very  conservative  in  many  ways. 

"Here  is  your  lower"  said  the  darky,  pulling 
back  the  curtain,  and  revealing  a  small,  dark  hole 
like  a  berth  in  a  cabin  at  sea,  only  it  was  pitch 
black  to  look  into. 

"And  who  is  going  above  ?"  I  anxiously  en- 
quired, seeing  a  bed  was  arranged  just  on  top. 

"Can't  tell,  till  he  conies  along." 

"He?  Do  you  suppose  it  is  a  he?"  I  asked. 
"My  berth  was  for  a  lady;  surely,  although  the 
car  itself  is  'mixed/  they  manage  to  put  a  woman 
above  a  woman." 


FIRST  NIGHT  ON  A  SLEEPING-CAR      297 

He  grinned  and  showed  his  white  teeth,  which 
had  probably  never  seen  a  tooth-brush,  and  were 
yet  more  beautiful  a  hundred  fold  than  white 
people's  teeth  so  carefully  tended.  Civilisation 
has  ruined  our  teeth  ;  iced-water  and  heated  rooms 
have  destroyed  those  of  Americans,  whose  mouths 
are  often  veritable  gold-mines  of  mechanical  art ; 
but  the  darky's,  in  spite  of  sucking  sugar-cane,  are 
usually  beautiful. 

All  the  berths  were  sold.  An  awful  man  went 
to  the  cubby-hole  above  me.  I  saw  the  shape  of 
his  feet  and  the  holes  in  his  socks  as  he  clambered 
up. 

Judging  from  the  snores  from  above  later  in  the 
night  the  "upper"  (who,  be  it  understood,  was 
only  three  feet  from  me)  was  very  much  a  man,  if 
not  two  men.  How  people  do  snore  in  sleepers. 
There  are  cars  for  babies  in  some  lands,  surely 
"cars  for  snorers"  would  be  a  great  benefit  to  the 
ordinary  traveller.  Let  me  commend  the  sug- 
gestion to  the  railway  companies.  It  is  given 
gratis. 

On  to  the  bed  I  had  to  crawl,  and  there  undress 
as  best  I  could,  piling  skirt,  jacket,  blouse,  hat, 
coat,  and  shoes,  and  bag,  all  down  to  the  bottom 
end  of  the  berth.  Could  anything  be  more  un- 
comfortable. But  this  is  America's  "civilisation," 
and  every  one  must  dress  and  undress  sitting  on  his 
bed,  where,  in  the  older  cars  "Out  West,"  there  is 


298  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

not  always  room  even  to  sit  upright,  and  many 
are  the  awful  thumps  my  poor  cranium  has  suffered 
in  consequence.  The  process  resembles  a  miner 
lying  on  his  back,  picking  for  coal.  The  passengers 
who  cannot  manage  to  disrobe  on  a  shelf,  so  to 
speak,  must  undress  in  the  passage  under  public 
gaze,  which  they  sometimes  do  unblushingly. 

One  simply  would  not  dare  to  retail  some  of  the 
sights  seen  in  American  cars.  Some  people  un- 
dress entirely,  especially  men ;  women  seem,  on 
the  whole,  to  be  a  little  more  self-respecting.  These 
men  with  hair  on  end,  blue  chins,  and  bleary  eyes, 
walk  about  in  pyjamas,  or,  worse  still,  unfastened 
garments  and  loose-hanging  braces  —  collarless, 
shoeless,  anyhow,  at  any  hour  of  the  night  or 
morning.  An  uncombed,  unshaven  male  being 
should  never  show  himself  to  man  or  beast,  and 
certainly  not  to  woman.  He  is  not  pretty  to  look 
upon. 

They  have  my  sympathy,  however.  How  is  one 
to  dress  on  a  shelf,  six  feet  four  inches  long  and 
four  feet  wide  ?  One  cannot  stand  up ;  one 
cannot  dress  sitting.  The  experiment  is  a 
Chinese  puzzle,  and  the  solution  has  not  yet  been 
found. 

Of  its  kind  the  Pullman  is  as  good  as  it  can  be  — 
but  it  should  not  be  ;  that  is  all  —  but  to  lose  one's 
temper  is  to  lose  one's  self-respect. 

At  last  I  was  undressed,  more  or  less,  —  a  good 


FIRST  NIGHT  ON  A  SLEEPING-CAR       299 

deal  less  than  more, — and,  rolling  myself  up  in  the 
sheets,  prepared  for  a  night's  rest.  The  bed  was 
really  comfortable ;  they  usually  are,  but  after  a 
while  I  felt  unpleasantly  hot. 

These  beds  cannot  be  praised  too  highly  in 
themselves ;  they  are  much  wider  than  any  ship's 
bunks,  they  are  softer,  and  the  pillows  are  comfort- 
able. If  only  big  liners  could  have  such  comfort- 
able beds,  stiff  necks  and  aching  limbs  would 
not  be  as  frequent  at  sea.  On  the  ocean  one 
has  too  much  air  sometimes  ;  in  one  of  these  cars 
one  never  has  enough.  So  the  traveller  is  seldom 
happy  at  night. 

It  seemed  very  oppressive,  and  at  last  in  des- 
peration, I  pushed  back  the  stuffy  green  curtains. 
Men  and  women,  darky  porters  and  ticket  col- 
lectors, passed  continually  up  and  down,  up  and 
down,  all  through  the  heated  night,  and  each  in 
turn,  surprised  to  find  curtains  open,  pushed  them 
to.  Every  time  the  train  stopped  it  did  so  with  a 
jerk,  and  my  man  above  snored  louder  and  louder, 
until  it  became  a  veritable  roar,  gently  echoed  from 
further  down  the  car.  I  was  nearly  asphyxiated 
with  the  heat,  and  felt  I  was  spending  the  night  in 
a  Turkish  bath  ;  but  open  the  window  I  could  not. 
The  atmosphere  was  stupendous.  Twenty-four 
persons  slept  in  that  car,  heated  artificially  to 
seventy-two  degrees  all  night. 

Having  slept  badly,  with  stops  and  bumps  and 


300  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

thumps  and  noises  of  every  inconceivable  kind, 
toward  morning  I  dozed  ;  but  was  soon  awakened 
by  the  score  of  people  in  the  car  beginning  to  get  up. 
Opposite  me  was  an  old  man,  who  performed  most 
of  his  toilet  in  the  passage.  I  closed  my  curtain  ; 
but  as  he  pulled  on  his  garments,  his  huge  form 
bulged  over  my  way.  At  last,  I  got  up,  on  the 
darky's  kindly  advice,  and  with  skirt  and  bodice, 
sponge  and  comb,  departed  to  dress.  The  little 
toilet-room  was  already  full ;  but  I  was  only  buy- 
ing another  experience  as  I  stood  half  dressed  in 
the  passage  waiting,  sponge  in  hand,  and  later 
learnt  never  to  leave  my  couch  until  the  porter  told 
me  the  boxlike  chamber  was  free. 

The  dressing-room  —  size  six  feet  by  six  — 
emptied  at  last,  but  I  had  not  been  there  long  when 
another  woman  arrived.  We  managed  as  cheerily 
as  we  could.  The  door  burst  open  and  a  third 
female,  by  a  huge  train-jerk,  was  landed  into  the 
arms  of  my  companion.  Three  of  us  in  the  space 
of  a  dining-room  table  struggled  to  dress.  Clean  ? 
Tidy  ?  No,  of  course  not ;  one  is  never  either  on  a 
Pullman  car  —  that  is  what  is  so  horrible  about 
these  journeys  of  five  days  and  nights.  When  I 
got  back  to  the  car,  my  bed  was  still  unmade.  I 
called  the  darky. 

"Gentleman  won't  get  up,"  he  said  (signifying 
the  bunk  above  mine). 

"Where  can  I  sit  then  ?" 


FIRST  NIGHT  ON  A  SLEEPING-CAR       301 


WELL 
\VELL!! 
JUST  LIKE 
IT 
IN  THE 
OLDEN 
IMS) 


By  permission  of  the  New  York  Times. 

As  TERRIBLE  AS  EVER 


302  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

"Guess  I  don't  know,  Miss/'  (Anyone  is  called 
"Miss.") 

"Is  the  drawing-room  car  empty  ?" 

"No  ;  sold,  every  corner  engaged." 

"What  shall  I  do?" 

"Guess  I  don't  know."  He  didn't,  for  there 
was  no  possible  extra  seat  to  pull  down  or  unfold, 
and  I  had  to  stand  in  the  passage  for  an  hour  till 
the  breakfast  car  joined  us. 

The  dexterity  of  the  porter  in  making  beds  is 
wondrous -- truly,  to  my  mind  one  of  the  most 
wonderful  things  in  all  America,  and  only  surpassed 
by  my  surprise  that  everyone  does  not  die  of 
pestilence.  Think  of  the  germs,  the  skin  diseases, 
the  "everything"  packed  away  snug  and  warm  in 
those  sleeping-cars,  and  never,  never  aired. 

"It  was  awfully  hot  last  night,"  I  exclaimed  to 
the  darky  as  we  stood  in  the  passage. 

"Why  didn't  you  ring,  ma'am,  and  I  could  have 
opened  your  window  ?" 

Ring?  Why,  greenhorn  that  I  was,  I  did  not 
know  there  was  a  bell  to  every  berth ;  neither  did 
I  know  the  awful  heat  was  artificial,  and  that  most 
cars  are  cooked  up  to  somewhere  near  boiling-point. 

Time  showed  me  the  virtues  and  drawbacks  of 
these  cars.  They  are  very  big  and  airy  by  day, 
and  far  superior  to  European  ones ;  but  they  are 
hot  and  stuffy  by  night.  They  run  smoothly,  and 
the  restaurants  attached  are  often  wonderfully 


FIRST  NIGHT  ON  A  SLEEPING-CAR      303 

good  ;  but  I  do  think  they  might  easily  be  made 
more  agreeable  for  women  at  night. 

Suppose  a  girl  takes  a  berth,  why  not  let  her 
declare  her  sex  and  be  allotted  a  bed  next  to  the 
ladies'  toilet ;  likewise  in  the  case  of  a  man,  and  so 
work  towards  the  middle.  Once  everybody  was 
settled  for  the  night  a  dividing  curtain  could  be 
dropped  across  the  car,  with  the  men  at  one  end 
and  the  women  at  the  other.  Each  individual 
stuffy  curtain  could  then  be  done  away  with, 
and  people  might  sleep  in  fresher  air,  and  even 
dress  in  the  passage,  if  the  dividing  curtain  across 
the  passage  were  down,  provided  no  one  passed 
except  the  porter. 

Joy  of  joys,  the  darky  may  condescend  to 
blacken  one's  shoes.  So  in  an  ecstasy  of  pleasure 
at  the  prospect  at  last  of  a  smart,  shiny  pair  of 
brown  shoes,  we  hand  them  over  to  his  care.  He 
does  clean  them ;  but  they  are  brown  and  his  rag 
is  black,  so  they  are  returned  to  us  almost  the  same 
hue  as  the  gentleman  himself. 

One  sits  comfortably  down  in  a  day  parlour-car, 
begging  a  little  rest  after  the  acrobatic  feats  of 
dressing,  and  sighs  with  relief  that  the  perils  of  the 
night  are  over. 

Soon  one  is  reminded  of  a  mutton  chop  sizzling 
in  a  frying-pan.  The  chop  gets  hotter  and  hotter, 
more  and  more  cooked,  and  at  last  the  fire  burning 
below  is  so  great  the  chop  jumps  about  in  the  fry- 


304  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

ing-pan.  We  jump  off  our  seat.  What  can  it  be  ? 
Is  there  a  fire  below  ?  Are  the  wheels  ablaze  ? 
What  can  have  happened  ?  Nothing  ;  it  is  merely 
the  usual  heating  arrangement  by  which  one  sits 
on  a  hot  seat,  and  has  heat  crawling  up  one's  spine 
until  Hades  must  be  a  joke  by  comparison. 

A  lady  one  day  lost  a  ring.  After  hours  of  fruit- 
less search,  lasting  nearly  all  day,  it  was  found  in 
the  spittoon  which  decorates,  or  divides,  every 
two  seats  in  every  car  throughout  the  length  and 
breadth  of  America.  The  spittoon  is  an  Ameri- 
can institution.  It  isn't  as  much  used  as  it  was ; 
but  it  is  a  bulwark  of  the  Constitution,  so  there  it 
still  remains. 

The  joys  of  travel  in  a  private  car  cannot  be 
surpassed,  but  only  one  person  in  a  million  in 
America  has  a  private  car. 

It  was  my  good  fortune  to  enjoy  this  luxury  with 
Colonel  Aldace  Walker,  chairman  (at  that  time) 
of  the  Atchison,  Topeka  &  Santa  Fe  Railroad  ;  also 
with  Mr.  Lorenzo  Johnson  of  the  Mexican  In- 
ternational Railway,  and  Sir  Weetman  Pearson 
(now  Lord  Cowdray)  at  Tehuantepec. 

This  spelt  luxury,  for  chairmen  of  railways 
make  their  journeys  in  royal  state.  No  wonder, 
poor  souls,  for  they  are  continually  "out  on  the 
road,"  and  they  want  some  comfort ;  but  those 
are  things  apart,  and  the  ordinary  car  shelters  the 
ordinary  people  who  in  tens  of  thousands  go  on  for 


FIRST  NIGHT  ON  A  SLEEPING-CAR      305 

years  and  years,  enduring  the  same  thing  every 
night.  A  bedroom  to  oneself,  a  drawing-room,  a 
dining-room,  a  cook  for  our  party,  a  glass  end  to 
the  carriage  called  an  "observation  car"  with  a 
little  balcony  built  on  —  delightful  to  sit  in  when 
not  too  dusty ;  but  on  single-track  lines  with- 
out proper  ballast  the  dust  is  sucked  up  by  the 
train  and  often  well-nigh  unendurable :  this  is 
what  a  private  car  means  as  well  as  a  bath  on 
board,  and  a  library  of  books.  In  fact,  it  is  an 
unspeakable  joy,  just  as  refined  and  peaceful  and 
pleasant  as  a  public  car  is  vulgar  and  noisy,  and  at 
night  airless  and  detestable. 

They  say  there  is  only  one  class  of  travel,  and 
that  at  two  cents  or  a  penny  a  mile,  in  America. 
That  is  not  true.  There  are  four  classes  ;  for  the 
first,  one  pays  for  an  extra  parlour-car  ticket ;  in 
the  second  (which  is  really  the  ordinary  mode)  one 
travels  in  a  "day  coach/5  where  less  well-endowed 
people  spend  days  and  nights  sitting  straight  up- 
right ;  and  there  is  an  emigrant  waggon.  Be- 
sides these  three  classes,  there  is  yet  another,  viz. 
a  train  de  luxe,  such  as  that  in  which  one  travels  a 
thousand  miles  between  New  York  and  Chicago,  a 
journey  which  cost  me  forty  dollars,  or  eight  pounds. 
It  is  a  marvellous  train,  and  in  the  summer  months 
only  takes  eighteen  hours  to  run  that  long  distance. 

There  is  class  distinction  in  America ;  but  it  is 
not  always  in  the  right  place. 


306  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

The  East  is  jealous  of  the  West,  and  the  West  is 
jealous  of  the  East,  and  the  New  Yorker  says  to  the 
stranger :  — 

"Why  do  you  go  to  Chicago  ?" 

"What  on  earth  did  you  ever  go  to  St.  Louis 
for?" 

"What  possible  attraction  could  there  have 
been  in  Kansas  City  ?" 

The  Bostonian  thinks  Boston  represents  the 
whole  United  States. 

At  odd  intervals  during  the  last  twelve  years  I 
have  met  people  of  this  city,  and  their  first  remark 
has  been :  - 

"Have  you  been  to  Boston  ?" 

"No."  " 

"What !  not  been  to  Boston  ?  Why,  you  don't 
know  America." 

To  which  I  have  mildly  replied  :  — 

"I  have  travelled  a  great  many  thousand  miles 
on  your  continent." 

"Ah,  but  you  have  never  been  to  Boston  !" 
they  have  exclaimed  in  disdain. 

Cruel,  isn't  it  ?  to  have  crossed  a  great  tract  of 
Canada  ;  to  have  travelled  from  Niagara  to  Chicago  ; 
from  St.  Louis  to  Kansas  ;  to  El  Paso  ;  right  through 
Mexico  as  far  as  Tehuantepec  (the  rival  of  Panama 
in  Trans-Atlantic-Pacific  transportation,  up  till 
now)  ;  to  have  been  to  Galveston  immediately 
after  the  great  storm  that  swept  that  city  away, 


FIRST  NIGHT  ON  A  SLEEPING-CAR      307 

to  have  peeped  into  the  darky  markets  of  New 
Orleans ;  to  have  enjoyed  the  hospitality  of  the 
White  House  and  Embassies  in  Washington ;  to 
have  stayed  with  the  great  Shakespearian  scholar  of 
America  in  Philadelphia,  to  have  spent  delightful 
weeks  in  New  York ;  and  to  have  done  all  this  on 
three  different  occasions,  and  then  to  be  turned  down 
as  knowing  nothing  of  the  United  States  because  of 
a  sinful  omission  in  not  having  been  to  Boston  ! 

But  I  am  going  to  Boston.  In  fact,  I  have 
crossed  the  Atlantic  on  purpose  to  do  so.  How 
could  anyone  die  happy  with  such  a  sin  of  omis- 
sion lying  heavily  on  her  conscience  ? 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE  OTHER  AMERICA 

(Busy  BOSTON.) 

IN  Boston  every  second  person  seems  to  write, 
or  their  grandfather  did,  or  their  great-grand- 
mother. 

There  is  something  very  lovable  in  Boston. 
People  have  time  to  love,  and  be  loved.  Their 
souls  and  their  brains  are  of  more  value  than  their 
dollars.  They  don't  talk  of  dollars ;  they  don't 
introduce  you  to  :  — 

"Mrs.  Jones  as  valuable  so  much." 
but  to :  - 

"Mrs.  Jones  who  writes  on  Browning." 

There  is  a  busy  air  about  Boston.  Somehow 
one  is  reminded  of  a  dear  little  old  lady  in  mittens 
and  a  beautiful  lace  cap,  redolent  of  lavender,  —  a 
dear  tidy,  neat  little  old  lady,  with  a  dust-pan  and 
broom,  always  dusting  and  cataloguing  her  prized 
books,  and  polishing  her  much-loved  china.  Young 
people  think  of  the  future,  middle-aged  folk  live  in 
the  present,  and  old  people  hark  back  to  the  past. 

Busy  Boston  ! 

It  is  altogether  another  world,  another  America. 

308 


THE  OTHER  AMERICA  309 

The  people  have  soft,  gentle  voices,  and  soft,  gentle 
ways.  There  is  a  "down-town,"  where  vast  liners 
acquire  or  disgorge  cargoes  of  human  or  other  freight, 
but  "down-town"  stays  down  town  and  leaves  its 
money-making  jargon  behind.  There  is  consider- 
able wealth,  much  of  which  is  disbursed  to  en- 
courage music,  art,  and  literature,  in  fact  every- 
thing noble  and  inspiring,  and  wealth  forgets 
wool  and  lumber,  dollars  and  finance,  in  its  hours 
of  leisure. 

There  are  delightful  old  streets  and  houses. 
There  are  homes,  where  people  really  live,  instead  of 
being  merely  a  number  in  an  hotel.  Boston  makes 
the  stranger  feel  he  is  living,  and  is  one  of  a  large 
family  party.  Boston  is  comfortable  and  cosy. 

It  is  a  city  of  crooked  roads  and  straight  deeds. 
The  old  Puritan  blood  keeps  the  Sabbath  more 
strictly  than  in  Great  Britain. 

Its  own  people  are  conservative,  gentle,  refined, 
and  gracious  ;  but  an  enormous  alien  population  is 
dumping  down,  and  some  fifty  thousand  Italians 
are  in  their  midst.  Little  Italy  is  planted  in  Eng- 
lish Boston,  on  American  soil. 

New  England  is  very  like  old  England  in  many 
ways.  The  Britisher  feels  at  home,  and  although 
he  does  not  find  Boston  brown  bread,  Boston  beans,  or 
Boston  plum  cake  (neatly  done  up  in  silver  paper) 
anywhere  in  Boston  itself,  he  does  find  real  English 
muffins. 


3io  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

The  post  brought  me  a  letter  one  day  which  ran : — 

"11/27/12 

"Boston  mass 

"Madam  i  see  by  the  Boston  Post  that  you  are  in  Boston 
I  would  like  two  no  if  you  are  the  Lady  Mrs  alec  tweedie 
that  was  in  D —  and  Em — 

Sutherland  Shire  Scotland  if  you  are  i  would  like  two  tell  you 
who  i  am  you  remember  J —  C —  of  Em —  that  was  taking 
you  out  in  the  Small  Boat  for  fishing  you  remember  the  Boat 
you  have  Christen  Alec  Tweedie  in  Em —  i  like  to  tell  you 
who  i  am  J —  C —  the  Baker  from  Em —  and  i  am  married 
and  living  at  No  Larking  Street  and  still  at  the  Baking 
and  Making  muffins  at  J.  J.  &  B.  S.  and  i  hope  you  will  have 
a  good  time  over  hear  your  Trully, 

"J—  C—  " 

What  memories  that  letter  awakened  from  the 
Highlander  whose  real  language  was  Gaelic.  How 
well  I  remembered  the  "boatie"  that  bears  my 
name,  an  account  of  the  "Baptisement"  of  which 
is  given  fully  in  "Thirteen  Years  of  a  Busy 
Woman's  Life." 

There  is  a  delightful  peace  about  Boston.  Its 
twisted  streets  and  picturesque  angles  are  a  joy. 
For  once  one  is  rid  of  blocks  and  numbers.  For 
once  there  is  individuality.  The  streets  are  called 
by  names  in  alphabetical  order :  Arlington,  Boyls- 
ton,  and  so  on. 

In  New  York  the  streets  cross  at  right  angles, 
beginning  a  mile  up-town,  and  going  to  looth  or 
1 5oth  street  with  cross  numbers.  The  avenues  run 
north  and  south. 


THE  OTHER  AMERICA 


Drawn  by  Louis  A.  Holman. 

THE  ATHENAEUM,  BOSTON 


312  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

In  Washington,  the  streets  running  east  and 
west  are  known  by  the  letters  of  the  alphabet,  for 
instance,  A,  B,  C,  and  D,  while  those  crossing  north 
and  south  are  known  by  numbers.  The  great 
avenues,  which  add  to  its  beauty,  cross  diagonally. 

One  of  my  Boston  pilgrimages  was  to  the  Library 
to  see  the  pictures  by  my  old  friends,  Abbey  and 
Sargent.  Abbey's  are  fine  and  strong  and  interest- 
ing. Sargent's  are  unfinished  and  somewhat  in- 
volved —  too  full  of  detail.  Sargent,  who  is  un- 
doubtedly the  greatest  portrait  painter  of  his  day, 
has,  alas,  given  up  portraits  for  the  present,  and  is 
enjoying  a  riot  of  sunlight.  He  has  been  travel- 
ling for  the  last  year  or  two,  revelling  in  sunbeam 
flashes  in  orchards,  sunlight  effects  on  wood  or 
stone,  sun  on  every  side,  and  his  canvasses,  though 
small,  have  been  ablaze  with  gorgeous  colouring. 
His  frescoes  in  Boston  are,  however,  disappointing. 

In  the  Library,  sadly  must  it  be  owned,  by  far  the 
best  pictures  in  the  building  are  by  a  French-speak- 
ing man,  Puvis  deChavannes whose  decorative  work 
on  the  stairs  is  excellent.  It  tones  with  the  marble, 
it  is  subdued  in  scheme.  It  is  everything  decora- 
tion should  be,  and  yet  many  of  his  canvasses 
seen  in  Paris  have  not  appealed  to  me  at  all ;  he 
is  certainly  a  master  of  decoration. 

Boston  State  House  has  a  golden  roof  like  the 
Capitol  in  Washington  and  the  churches  in  Mos- 


THE  OTHER  AMERICA  313 

cow  and  Mexico  City.  The  interior  is  fine.  Tudor 
roses  figure  in  the  ornamentation  on  every  side, 
reminiscent  of  the  days  of  English  sway. 

There  are  trees  in  the  boulevards  and  avenues, 
and  the  city  is  built  on  piles  like  Chicago.  How 
America  does  love  to  reclaim  swampy  land,  and 
build  houses  on  this  man-made  structure,  as  if  there 
was  not  enough  —  and  more  than  enough --land 
in  that  vast  country  to  plant  a  house  on  a  firm 
natural  foundation.  These  towns  built  on  sand 
cannot  have  subways  in  the  future  like  New  York 
on  its  bed  of  rock. 

There,  on  a  little  hill  where  the  English  soldiers 
once  encamped,  stands  a  churchyard.  Below  is 
the  river.  Great  liners  lap  its  banks,  children's 
playgrounds  and  open-air  gymnasiums  adjoin  the 
wharves  and  markets  of  this  great  commercial  city, 
which  has  rapidly  developed  into  one  of  the  vast 
centres  of  immigration. 

As  one  stands  in  that  peaceful  little  churchyard, 
peeping  round  a  sky-scraper  towards  Bunker  Hill, 
one  is  struck  by  the  number  of  small  American  flags 
ornamenting  the  graves.  Each  flag  represents  the 
burial  ground  of  some  American  soldier,  more  often 
than  not  bearing  a  purely  British  name.  The  irony 
of  time.  The  paradox  of  years.  Soft  fog,  from 
smoke  and  sea,  dimmed  the  sight  of  Bunker  Hill, 
yet  here  at  last  was  a  spot  where  the  English  be- 
haved themselves  somewhat  creditably ;  for  once 


314  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

the  visitor  as  she  looked  towards  Bunker  Hill 
could  murmur  in  soft  tones  :  — 

"Where  were  we  beaten  and  how  many  thousand 
English  were  put  to  flight  by  a  handful  of  Ameri- 
cans ?" 

And  for  the  first  time,  a  puzzled  expression  took 
the  place  of  a  ready  reply. 

Boston  has  a  particular  and  unique  gem  in  her 
diadem.  A  certain  lady  was  left  a  fortune.  She 
had  great  love  for  art,  great  appreciation  of  the 
beautiful,  and  great  gifts  of  discernment.  She  was 
about  forty  years  of  age.  Her  mind  was  ripe  ;  a 
woman  in  her  prime,  she  decided  that  beautiful 
things  gave  her  more  real  pleasure  than  mere  dol- 
lars, and  determined  to  spend  her  fortune  in  making 
a  lovely,  refined,  and  artistic  home.  She  lived  in 
Europe  for  several  summers,  and  returned  to  Amer- 
ica for  the  winter.  She  scoured  Italy,  and  in  ten 
years  that  woman,  unaided  and  alone,  had  made 
one  of  the  most  famous  private  art  collections  in 
America.  All  honour  to  this  quiet,  gentle  little 
lady. 

Having  secured  her  treasures  she  erected  a 
house  to  cover  them.  The  exterior  is  built  in  a 
severe  style  of  Italian  architecture ;  some  might 
call  it  dull.  Inside  it  is  a  revelation.  It  has  a 
covered-in  patio  with  Roman  fountains,  Italian 
pillars,  palms,  and  roses  ;  every  capital  is  different, 


THE  OTHER  AMERICA  315 

every  stone  reminds  her  of  some  secret  joy.  There 
are  famous  pictures  of  the  Early  Italian  School 
and  some  Dutch  paintings.  Several  of  them 
are  world-renowned. 

Quite  lately  the  custom  duty  on  works  of  art 
over  twenty  years  old  was  taken  off  in  America ; 
but  unfortunately  this  artistic  woman  was  not 
as  lucky  as  the  late  Mr.  J.  Pierpont  Morgan, 
and  had  to  pay  duty  on  all  her  treasures,  and  real 
treasures  many  of  them  are. 

If  Americans  like  to  say :  — 

"Mrs.  Eddy  was  the  greatest,  yes,  the  real 
greatest  woman  of  America,"  I  would  agree  with 
them. 

Not  being  a  Christian  Scientist,  seeing  much 
evil  in  the  world,  and  far  too  much  sickness  to 
believe  her  ethics,  I  look  on  quite  dispassionately 
and  rather  critically  at  one  of  the  great  movements 
of  the  day.  Greater  than  the  Salvation  Army 
with  its  world-wide  repute  because  noise,  music, 
thunder,  brawl,  all  appeal  to  and  often  elevate  the 
submerged  tenth,  Mrs.  Eddy  had  none  of  these 
arguments.  She  was  not  even  a  man.  She  began 
before  women  had  made  the  position  they  now 
have  for  themselves,  and  she  aimed  at  the  luxurious, 
self-centred  rich,  and  caught  them  in  her  casting- 
net, 
i  The  gentle  little  woman  rearranged  the  Bible, 


316  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

and  called  it  Christian  Science,  and  herself  its 
author.  She  started  her  preaching  about  1890,  in 
her  First  Little  Church  in  Boston.  This  quiet 
edifice  is  still  there.  It  holds  about  a  thousand 
people  and  is  used  for  a  Sunday  School.  The 
great  big  New  Mother  Church,  with  its  five  thousand 
seats,  joins  on.  From  the  street  they  both  look 
like  a  colossal  chemical  tube  —  the  larger  Mother 
Church  appearing  like  the  vacuum,  the  smaller 
church  the  stem.  Architecturally,  there  is  no 
connection  between  them. 

The  Mother  Church  is  large,  imposing,  simple. 
Inside  it  is  all  white  stone  except  the  golden 
pipes  of  the  organ  and  the  tiny  dashes  of  cheery 
red  velvet  on  the  three  desks  of  the  male  and 
female  readers  and  the  female  vocalist. 

The  service  is  simple,  dignified,  and  reposeful, 
and  the  singing  is  beautiful. 

Every  seat  is  free.  Every  seat  was  full,  but  I 
did  not  see  a  poor  person  in  all  that  vast  audience. 
Not  one  of  the  fifty  thousand  Italians  in  Boston  was 
there ;  no  one,  in  fact,  who  was  not  well-to-do,  very 
well-to-do,  one  might  say,  judging  by  the  sables 
and  ostrich  plumes  and  wealth  of  attire. 

That  one  fragile  woman,  alone  and  unaided, 
preached  a  religion  that  numbers  millions  of 
adherents.  Is  not  that  amazing  ?  She  died  at 
the  age  of  eighty-seven.  She  was  small  and 
frail  with  a  high  colour;  active  in  mind  and 


THE  OTHER  AMERICA  317 

body,  and  a  very  good  business  woman ;    when 
she  died,  she  left  over  half  a  million  sterling. 

She  had  had  three  husbands  and  left  one  son ; 
another  adopted  son  is  a  doctor.  In  the  small 
church  in  early  days  she  herself  preached.  The 
inherent  power  of  the  woman  and  her  strength 
were  shown  by  the  fact,  that  for  years,  all  the  later 
years  of  her  life,  she  personally  did  nothing,  and  yet 
she  kept  her  hold  on  her  public  and  enlarged  her 
flock.  Now  that  she  is  dead  the  vast  administra- 
tion she  left  behind  is  carrying  on  her  doctrines ; 
her  books  and  her  newspapers  are  selling  with 
equal  success.  For  years  she  lived  in  retirement 
with  a  royal  retinue  of  twenty  persons  in  a  beauti- 
ful and  expensive  home  near  Boston.  Such  far- 
reaching  influence  as  she  exerted  may  well  qualify 
her  to  be  called  the  greatest  woman  of  America, 
and  perhaps  the  greatest  woman  of  her  day.  Mrs. 
Eddy  was  a  power,  all  honour  to  her. 

Boston  has  many  pretty  little  ways.  Once  a 
writer  was  invited  to  a  luncheon.  She  was  a 
stranger  in  the  town  and  almost  a  stranger  to  her 
hostess,  although  both  had  many  mutual  friends. 
The  hostess  was  Mrs.  Alexander  Martin.  When 
the  party  filed  into  the  luncheon  room,  the  table 
was  found  to  be  laid  for  fourteen,  and  on  everyone's 
plate  was  a  large  red  box,  prettily  covered  in 
scarlet-coloured  ribbon,  to  which  each  guest's 


3i8  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

name  was  attached.  The  flowers  were  red ;  the 
candle  shades  were  red ;  it  was  a  delightfully 
warm  cheery  scene.  When  the  boxes  were  looked 
into,  each  one  proved  to  contain  a  book,  the  latest 
book  of  the  guest  for  whom  the  party  was  given, 
and  who  was  naturally  somewhat  overpowered. 

"I  thought  each  of  my  friends  would  like  this 
little  memento,"  said  the  hostess,  "and  I  am 
going  to  ask  you  to  sign  the  copies  and  add  the 
date  to  them." 

Was  ever  prettier  compliment  paid  to  anyone  ? 
A  dozen  copies  of  "Thirteen  Years,"  which  ran 
into  four  editions  in  six  months,  was  the  volume. 

At  other  functions  in  Chicago  and  New  York 
the  book  was  given  as  bridge  prizes,  another  pretty 
compliment  to  its  author.  As  I  said  before, 
American  women  are  always  thinking  of  nice  little 
things  to  do,  pretty  little  acts  of  courtesy  to  one 
another,  and  especially  to  strangers. 

The  people  of  Boston  were  particularly  kind  and 
hospitable.  I  lunched  and  dined  and  tea-ed  and 
theatred  and  opera-ed  with  Mrs.  Jack  Gardner, 
Mrs.  Thomas  Bailey  Aldrich,  Mrs.  Alexander 
Martin,  Mr.  Nathan  Haskell  Dole,  Mrs.  Dexter, 
Mrs.  Margaret  Deland,  President  Lowell  of  Har- 
vard, Miss  Helen  Clark,  Mrs.  Dreyfus,  Mr.  Sam 
Elder,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Scofield,  Miss  Caroline 
Ticknor,  Miss  Helen  Samborn,  Mrs.  May  Wright 
Sewall,  Miss  Laura  Drake  Gill,  Professor  Bates, 


THE  OTHER  AMERICA  319 

Miss  Helen    Reed,   Mrs.  C.    H.    Bond,   Mr.    H. 
Jenkins  of  Little,  Brown,  &  Co. 

Alas,  one  of  the  most  brilliant  of  these  many 
brilliant  friends  has  passed  away,  Lilian  Shuman 
Dreyfus.  She  was  a  woman  of  rare  gifts  and 
gentle  ways. 

I  was  in  Boston  for  the  great  national  fete.  It 
really  was  rather  amusing  to  ask  some  ordinary 
persons  what  they  thought  of  Thanksgiving  Day. 

Number  One  replied,  "Something  to  do  with 
Pilgrim  Fathers,  but  I  don't  know  what/' 

Number  Two  answered,  "Thanksgiving  ?  Guess 
it's  for  getting  rid  of  English  rule." 

Number  Three  vouchsafed  that  "he  had  no 
idea." 

Number  Four,  an  hotel  porter,  answered, 
"Thanksgiving  for  the  birth  of  Christ." 

This  is  not  so  strange  as  it  seems  when  one  con- 
siders that  of  the  population  of  the  United  States 
seventy-five  per  cent  are  not  of  American  origin. 
But  whether  American-born  or  not,  they  all  par- 
ticipate in  the  joys  of  feasting. 

Thanksgiving  Day  ! 

All  America  was  eating  turkey,  bathing  in  cran- 
berry sauce,  and  revelling  in  mince  pies,  plum- 
puddings,  nuts,  and  raisins ;  traditional  fare  of 
rejoicing  introduced  into  the  Western  Continent 
by  the  English. 


320  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

Once  I  was  in  the  train  on  Thanksgiving  Day, 
running  along  the  shores  of  the  Mississippi ;  eight 
years  later  (1912)  I  was  in  Boston. 

Snow  a  foot  deep  had  covered  the  ground  in 
Montreal  as  we  sleighed  to  the  station  to  the  tune 
of  jingling  bells  beneath  a  glorious  moon  to  arrive 
one  hot,  sunny  November  day~in  Boston.  But 
two  mornings  later  the  snow  had  followed  us  south, 
and  watery  mush  fell  from  the  sky  as  I  gazed  from 
my  window.  Hospitality  was  rife.  Lunches  and 
dinners  prevailed  ;  but  Thanksgiving  Day  is  a  day 
of  family  rejoicing,  and  the  stranger  within  the 
gates  of  the  city  who  was  being  so  royally  enter- 
tained on  other  days  was  forgotten. 

It  was  a  delightful  time  of  restfulness.  The  bells 
rang  for  church.  I  went  not.  Motors,  carriages, 
and  horse  cabs  plied  to  gay  gatherings  in  the  snow, 
while  I  had  my  first  day's  real  rest  since  landing, 
many  weeks  before,  on  American  shores. 

And  what  was  Boston  doing  ?  Its  paper  said, 
"Wintry  gales  add  zest  to  Thanksgiving"  ;  so  even 
a  sixty-mile-an-hour  gale,  raging  on  the  coast,  did 
not  damp  her  ardour.  Feasting  and  merrymaking 
prevailed  in  the  homes.  Special  church  services 
were  going  on  in  every  denomination.  Charitable 
societies  were  feeding  blacks  and  whites,  Christians 
and  pagans,  but  the  greatest  excitement  of  all 
prevailed  in  the  football  field.  It  always  does  in 
the  States. 


THE  OTHER  AMERICA 


321 


Drawn  by  Louis  A.  Holman. 

THE  OLD  SOUTH  CHURCH,  BOSTON 


322  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

Christmas  Day  feasting  and  revelry  in  England 
is  forestalled  nearly  a  month  by  Thanksgiving  Day 
in  America ;  you  see,  they  must  be  ahead  of  dear 
sleepy  old  England,  so  they  eat  their  turkey,  with 
chestnut  stuffing,  cranberry  sauce,  mince  pies, 
almonds,  and  raisins  for  Thanksgiving,  and  only 
repeat  the  dose  in  a  mild  form  at  Christmas. 

Baskets  of  food  were  handed  out  to  three 
thousand  poor,  and  the  jailbirds  were  not  for- 
gotten. Sailors  on  battle-ships  were  fed.  Nuns 
held  high  revel.  Hospitals  were  treated.  Every 
man,  woman,  and  child  in  Boston  made  merry 
and  jubilated  over  his  annual  rejoicing  instituted 
by  folk  from  Great  Britain.  And  a  representative 
of  Great  Britain  sat  alone  and  pondered,  while  great 
snowflakes  fell  from  above,  and  lay  thickly  upon 
the  trees  and  on  the  ground. 

The  real  origin  of  Thanksgiving  Day  came  from 
the  Pilgrims  at  Plymouth,  near  Boston.  They  had 
a  terrible  time,  and  in  1621,  after  their  first  good 
harvest,  they  offered  up  prayers  of  thanksgiving. 
Gradually  this  idea  spread,  and  it  has  become  a 
universal  holiday  since  President  Lincoln  fixed 
the  date  on  the  fourth  Thursday  in  November, 
in  1864.  It  is  now  a  national  institution ;  but 
in  New  England  probably  it  is  more  particularly  a 
family  reunion  than  in  any  other  part  of  America. 

Morals  are  largely  a  matter  of  geography.  Feast 
days  and  religious  beliefs  are  the  same.  While 


THE  OTHER  AMERICA  323 

all  Boston  was  feting  and  feasting  and  making 
merry,  an  Englishwoman  sat  alone  in  the  spacious 
College  Club.  No  one  wanted  a  stranger  in  their 
family  circle,  and  so  she  sat  alone  in  that  vast  triple 
drawing-room  before  a  wood  fire,  sipping  tea  and 
thinking.  How  strange  it  all  seemed.  This  day 
means  nothing  in  old  England.  Our  bank  holiday 
means  nothing  to  America. 

Every  now  and  then  the  darky  porter  came  in 
to  ask  if  I  wanted  anything.  I  let  him  sharpen  a 
pencil.  He  went  away.  Later  he  came  back. 
I  thanked  him ;  but  I  did  not  want  anything. 
Later  he  returned  again. 

"Can  I  do  anything  for  you,  m'arm  ?"  he  asked. 
Verily  that  darky  of  pearly  teeth  seemed  to  be 
sorry  for  my  loneliness  and  apparently  wanted 
to  cheer  me.  Being  alone  does  not  necessarily 
mean  one  is  lonely.  I  am  never  less  alone  than 
when  alone.  Imagination  conjures  up  interesting 
company,  and  'tis  a  dull  dog  truly  that  suffers 
ennui. 

And  while  Boston  was  making  merry,  fire  was 
aflame.  Fires  are  so  constant  and  so  important, 
that  they  are  reported  daily  in  the  press,  as 
follows :  — 


3  24  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

YESTERDAY'S  FIRES 

Box      Time 

A.M.  I 

2123      3  :  39—33  Garden  street ;  Harry 

R.  Pollock  $50 

126  4  :  02 — 343  E  street,  South  Bos- 
ton; Charles  Jienuslim- 

iscy $25 

P.M. 

453  12:30—549  Main  street, 
Charlestown ;  Edward 

V.  Murphy Slight 

20      3:00—119     Stamford     street; 

Edie  Eufrena $300 

1489      3  : 10 — Fire  in  Dedham. 

78      4  :  01 — 48  Sharon  street ;  Ruth 

Wilds $10 

488  4:30—60  Lawrence  street; 
Charlestown;  Jamieson 

Bros None 

219      5  :  00 — Longwood  and  Hunting- 
ton  avenue  ;  grass  fire. . 
70      6:30    117  Union  Park  street; 

Mary  Hagerty None 

65      6  : 45 — False  alarm. 
465      6:52—98    Cambridge    street; 

Charles  C.  Neal $15 

*  11:15—715    South    street,    Ja- 

maica     Plain ;      Harry 

Small $200 

231  11  :46— 9  Williams  street,  Rox- 
bury ;  Jones  &  Farrell 
and  others $800 

*  Still  alarm. 

Why  in  London  have  we  no  such  delightful 
scheme  as  the  Century  Club  ?  Every  Saturday  at 
one  o'clock  as  many  members  as  can  find  seats, 
viz.  fifty  or  sixty,  pay  their  fee  and  join  the 
round  tables,  where  plain-living  and  high-thinking 
reign.  Any  visitor  of  note  to  Boston  is  invited, 
and  it  was  my  privilege  to  be  there  the  same  day 
as  Baroness  von  Ziittner,  with  whom  it  will  be 
remembered  I  stayed  at  the  Chatfield  Taylors  at 
Lake  Forest. 

It  was  Bohemian  in  its  best  sense.     It  had  no 


THE  OTHER  AMERICA  325 

pretence ;  cold  beef  and  coffee,  ice-cream  and 
crackers ;  but  we  all  loved  it,  and  personally  I 
wished  there  were  more  of  that  sort  of  thing  in 
America,  where  the  rich  feasting  which  prevails 
might  make  even  a  Roman  emperor  blush. 

The  club  was  established  to  promote  a  finer 
public  spirit  and  a  better  social  order  ;  and  grateful 
indeed  I  was  to  that  entertaining  Boston  ency- 
clopaedia of  men,  manners,  and  matters  —  Mr. 
Nathan  Haskell  Dole  —  for  entertaining  me 
there. 

Boston,  once  the  home  of  all  the  learning  of  the 
States,  as  Edinburgh  was  to  Scotland,  is  changing 
its  character.  There  are  still  Societies  of  Art 
and  Literature  and  Music ;  but  culture  is 
being  swamped  somewhat  by  the  influx  of 
foreigners. 

Boston  has  its  Toy  Theatre  with  one  hundred 
and  fifty  seats,  where  delightful  entertainments 
are  given,  and  where  I  enjoyed  a  literary  tea- 
party  with  George  Arliss,  the  actor;  its  great 
library,  where  they  flattered  me  by  showing  me 
my  own  books  neatly  catalogued  ;  its  opera,  where 
beautiful  women  and  beautiful  music  were  en- 
chanting. 

Boston  has  its  Symphony  Concerts  ;  its  Christian 
Science  Church ;  its  endless  religions,  and  fads, 
and  cures,  even  to  the  striking  of  a  musical  chord 
to  remove  a  wart  on  the  nose. 


326  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

Then  again  Harvard  returns  to  one's  memory  as 
a  scene  of  peace ;  delightful  red  brick  buildings, 
and  a  square  filled  with  dead  trees.  One  recalls 
genial  and  courteous  President  Lowell,  virile 
American  students,  and  near  by  five  hundred 
women  at  RadclifTe.  Professors  and  students 
should  be  continually  exchanged  between  England 
and  America. 

Heredity  does  count.  We  may  sometimes  pick 
a  genius  out  of  the  gutter,  but  genius  and  a 
trained  mind  together  produce  fine  material  indeed. 
Look  at  the  Lowell  family.  President  Lowell,  its 
descendant,  was  very  keen  on  the  fact  that  the  med- 
ical school  at  Harvard  was  busy  with  a  cure 
for  infant  paralysis  and  the  whooping-cough  germ. 
Speaking  of  Ambassador  Bryce  he  said  :  — 

"He  has  done  more  to  cement  the  friendship 
of  the  two  countries  than  England  knows." 

It  is  interesting  to  remember  in  connection 
with  Harvard  that  its  founder,  John  Harvard, 
was  born  at  the  time  of  Shakespeare  and  in  the 
same  small  town  of  Stratford-on-Avon.  He  left 
England  as  an  undergraduate  of  Cambridge ;  but 
the  love  of  learning  was  already  acquired,  and 
far,  far  away  it  bore  fruit.  This  Englishman 
founded  the  first  college  in  the  New  World  about 
three  hundred  years  ago.  America  seems  to 
forget  she  has  had  a  university  for  three  hundred 
years,  or  she  could  not  so  incessantly  inform  us  of 


THE  OTHER  AMERICA  327 

her  infantile  precocity.  We  hardly  think  of 
Shakespeare  as  a  modern  product,  nor  do  we  excuse 
his  talents  on  that  score.  Harvard  is  a  great 
bond  of  union  between  the  two  lands,  a  fact 
not  sufficiently  known,  or  appreciated,  although 
America  has  produced  three  great  historians  in 
Parkman,  Motley,  and  Prescott. 

It  is  impossible  to  mention  all  the  delightful 
people  I  met  in  Boston.  One  of  them  was  Mrs. 
Margaret  Deland,  whose  reputation  as  a  novelist  is 
world-wide.  In  the  simplest,  most  artistic  of 
drawing-rooms,  with  shining  parquet  floors  and 
rampant  tigers  in  tapestry  on  the  wall,  sat  this 
kindly,  lovable  woman.  A  huge,  long-haired  Scotch 
sheep-dog  was  sitting  beside  her  on  the  sofa, 
while  she  dispensed  tea  —  a  real  English  tea  and 
cakes  —  and  chatted  delightfully  on  all  possible 
subjects.  Margaret  Deland  is  a  big  woman  with 
all  the  true  womanly  instincts,  even  to  learning 
bridge  to  please  her  husband. 

The  hand  of  good  fellowship  is  never  lacking. 
People  invite  strangers  to  their  homes,  they 
show  them  all  they  have,  they  tell  them  all  they 
know,  they  give  up  their  time  and  their  motors, 
or  walk  them  about  and  explain  things ;  in 
fact,  the  gracious  kindliness  and  thoughtful 
helpfulness  of  the  American  is  invigorating  and 
delightful. 


328  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

One  of  the  nice  things  they  do  is  to  lend  their 
motors ;  nothing  is  kinder.  It  is  difficult  to 
find  one's  way  about  in  a  new  city,  and  one  can 
see  twice  as  much  if  guided  by  a  friend.  In  every 
town  I  visited,  with  one  exception,  someone  offered 
to  put  a  motor  at  my  disposal.  That  one  excep- 
tion, unfortunately,  was  New  York ;  and  it  really 
was  unfortunate,  as  it  is  by  far  the  most  difficult 
city  in  which  to  get  about,  and  to  the  "alien  " 
almost  impossible.  By  the  bye,  it  is  not  necessary 
to  feed  the  stranger,  or  even  to  house  the  stranger  ; 
but  to  take  the  stranger  somewhere,  and  personally 
show  him  something,  is  the  greatest  kindness 
and  of  far  more  real  value  than  many  people 
realise.  Both  men  and  women  are  charming  in 
this  respect.  Naturally  one  sees  more  women, 
as  men  are  never  visible  till  the  evening  meal, 
and  not  always  then ;  so  one  repeats  at  odd 
intervals  all  day,  "Where  are  the  men  ?" 

I've  been  to  Boston. 

Yes,  at  last  I  have  reached  my  American  Mecca. 
After  three  visits  of  about  three  months  each  in 
the  United  States,  I  have  seen  Boston  ;  so  no  longer 
can  Americans  twit  me  for  knowing  "nothing" 
of  the  country. 

I  am  satisfied.  Boston  I  saw,  and  Boston  con- 
quered me. 

Stay. 


THE  OTHER  AMERICA  329 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  says  someone  in  my  ear. 
"But  you  have  not  been  to  —  " 

"Oh,  yes,  I  have.  I  have  been  to  Boston,"  I 
reply  eagerly. 

"But  have  you  been  to  California  ?" 

"Cal-    -?"  I  stammer. 

"Yes  —  have  you  been  to  California  ?"  persists 
the  interrogator. 

"No,  I  have  not  —  only  to  Texas  and  Arizona 
and  New  Mexico  and  Missouri  and  - 

"But  you  have  not  been  to  California  ?" 

"No,  I  have  not,"  I  am  obliged  to  confess. 

"Oh,  then  you  don't  know  anything  of  America," 
is  the  reply. 

Collapse  of  the  writer. 

She  must  return  again  to  see  California  before 
she  dies,  or  remain  entirely  ignorant  of  America 
from  the  Southern  Argentine  to  beyond  the  St. 
Lawrence,  all  of  which  she  knows  a  little,  although 
she  has  dared  to  omit  California. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS 

WE  have  to  concede  many  things  to  the  Ameri- 
cans, but  we  cannot  concede  manners.  In  this 
particular  line  Europe  can  give  them  points. 

It  is  a  case  of  generations  of  manners  versus 
cosmopolitan  conglomeration  of  habit.  The  polite- 
ness of  London  is  lost  in  the  hustle  of  New  York, 
although  that  hustle  is  much  overrated,  and  often 
merely  an  excuse  for  abruptness  of  manner. 

There  is  a  certain  calm  dignity,  a  gentle  repose 
of  manner  common  in  Europe,  which  is  lacking  in 
America,  where  many  people  have  not  yet  learned 
to  be  quite  sure  of  themselves,  nor  grown  quite  ac- 
customed to  their  new  position,  although  American 
adaptability  is  a  thing  to  wonder  at  and  admire. 
How  well  their  daughters  learn  to  be  European 
Duchesses.  But  at  home,  in  their  own  environ- 
ment, it  is  more  difficult  to  attain  perfection  of 
manner,  because  there  is  no  standard  to  go  by, 
no  Queen  to  copy  in  the  matter  of  courtesy,  no 
King  to  follow  as  an  example  of  stateliness,  how- 
ever much  Americans  may  deride  the  figure-head 
of  royalty.  I  once  took  a  delightful  woman  to  see 

330 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS  331 

Queen  Mary  open  a  public  building.  When  Her 
Majesty  had  passed  us  my  American  friend  turned 
to  me  with  tears  in  her  eyes  and  said  :  — 

"  Most  impressive  ;  there  is  something  in  royalty 
after  all!" 

There  are  a  good  many  little  differences  in  cus- 
tom to  be  noticed  between  England  and  America, 
more  especially  in  the  middle  class ;  sometimes  to 
the  advantage  of  one,  sometimes  to  the  advantage 
of  the  other. 

In  England,  when  people  are  introduced,  they 
smile,  bow,  and  one  or  the  other  starts  to  talk  on 
any  subject  uppermost  in  the  mind.  In  America, 
they  immediately  repeat  the  name  of  the  stranger 
who  has  been  presented  to  them,  saying :  — 

"Mrs.  Jones,  delighted  to  meet  you,"  while  the 
other  replies  :- 

"Mrs.  Smith,  delighted  to  meet  you." 

This  "delighted  to  meet  you"  is  a  regular 
formula,  and  a  pretty  one,  too,  while  the  idea  of 
repeating  the  name  is  really  clever,  and  shows 
that  the  introducer  has  managed  to  pronounce  it 
sufficiently  distinctly  for  the  friends  to  catch, 
which  is  more  than  can  be  said  for  most  introduc- 
tions in  England.  No  two  Americans  can  con- 
verse happily  for  one  moment  unless  they  know 
one  another's  exact  names;  they  will  even  say, 
"What  name,  please?"  Not  that  the  name 
means  anything  to  either  of  them ;  but  because 


332  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

they  must  be  introduced,  or  introduce  them- 
selves. 

Tips  and  railway  porters  are  universal  in 
Britain.  Both  were  unknown  in  America  until 
quite  recently  ;  indeed,  it  is  amazing  the  difference 
I  saw  on  my  return  after  an  absence  of  a  few 
years,  to  find  darky  porters,  and  good  ones,  too, 
had  been  added  at  the  principal  railway  stations, 
and  also  to  notice  how  every  one  now  expects  to 
be  tipped.  Even  an  Atlantic  stewardess  cannot 
get  an  apple  for  a  passenger  without  her  tipping 
the  ship's  fruitman  during  every  voyage.  Tips 
within  tips,  truly. 

Of  course,  it  is  the  fashion  in  England  for  pro- 
fessional beauties  as  well  as  people  of  eminence  to 
see  their  names  constantly  in  the  newspapers, 
but  in  America  there  is  a  perfect  craze  to  appear  in 
print.  Every  Tom,  Dick,  and  Harry  craves  to 
see  his  doings  described,  not  only  when  passed, 
but  even  in  advance.  The  guests  he  is  going  to 
have  to  dinner,  and  what  his  wife  is  going  to 
wear.  And  as  for  the  women's  photographs  in  the 
Press,  they  appear  with  never  failing  regularity, 
and  they  all  look  the  same  age. 

Various  relics  of  the  past  remain  in  this  demo- 
cratic land.  For  instance,  a  man  speaks  of  his 
wife  as  "Mrs.  Smith,"  and  she  of  her  husband  as 
"Mr.  Smith."  They  never  say  " my  wife "  nor  " my 
husband,"  terms  which  they  appear  to  think  are 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS 


333 


334  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

like  "my  dog,"  or  "my  house,"  and  have  reference 
to  a  chattel,  in  fact.  Nor  do  they  refer  to  each 
other  as  "Mary,"  or  "Tom,"  but  concentrate 
all  the  deferential  respect  of  America  into  this  one 
formal  nomenclature.  Our  nobility  talk  of  one  an- 
other in  the  same  way ;  but  nobility  go  still  further, 
and  the  lady  addresses  her  husband  by  whatever 
his  title  may  be  —  without  the  aristocratic  prefix 
at  all. 

Americans  often  use  the  terms  "Ma'am"  and 
"Sir"  to  friends  and  equals,  just  as  those  terms 
are  used  to  Royalty  in  Great  Britain. 

Another  American  expression  is  "Sister."  A 
man  will  say,  "Take  my  arm,  sister,"  across  a  bad 
bit  of  road  ;  it  is  a  term  of  protection  and  kindliness. 

The  American  is  never  unconventional.  The 
most  fashionable  spot  is  his  Mecca ;  to  be  more 
exact,  his  god.  From  the  make  of  his  shoes  to  the 
pattern  of  his  garments,  in  one  and  all,  his  chief 
desire  is  "to  be  correct."  There  is  a  certain  type 
of  American  woman  to  whom  the  desire  to  do  the 
right  thing  seems  to  be  a  perfect  nightmare.  She 
is  constantly  wondering  who  should  be  helped  first 
at  table,  who  should  take  precedence  at  dinner, 
whether  she  should  keep  her  gloves  on  or  not ; 
and  takes  refuge  in  endless  books  on  etiquette. 

There  are  other  books  on  "Letter-writing" 
"How  to  entertain,"  and  endless  questions  not 
yet  settled  by  rule  of  thumb  in  the  New  World, 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS  335 

where  the  manners  of  both  men  and  women  are 
founded  on  Old-world  traditions,  some  descended 
from  the  early  settlers. 

In  America  the  women  are  more  free  than  in 
England  and  the  men  are  more  polite  —  when  they 
know  how  to  be  —  but,  of  course,  there  are  so 
many  grades,  only  the  ones  at  the  top  have  learnt 
social  courtesy,  and  the  lower  orders  of  men  are 
more  rude  and  uncouth  than  the  women.  While 
the  young  married  woman  has  the  best  of  times  in 
Europe,  she  takes  a  back  seat  in  America,  having 
had  her  fling  as  a  girl ;  for  girls  are  considered 
before  everyone  in  the  States.  The  girls  positively 
rule  the  homes. 

Boundless  hospitality  exists  in  America.  Stran- 
gers are  warmly  welcomed,  entertained,  and  made 
happy ;  while  men  are  constantly  sending  flowers, 
candies,  or  books  to  ladies,  and  doing  pretty  little 
courtesies  of  that  kind.  The  love  of  sweet  things  is 
so  great,  from  candies  to  ice-creams,  that  even 
the  stamps  are  sugared  ! 

The  contrast  between  "society"  in  London  and 
New  York  is  not  so  great  as  many  suppose.  There 
are  more  low  dresses  and  diamond  tiaras  in  London, 
and  more  smart-looking,  tidy  women  in  New  York  ; 
more  beards  in  London  and  more  clean-shaven  faces 
in  Manhattan.  There  are  larger  hotels  in  New 
York,  and  bigger  shops ;  there  are  prominent  red 
pillar-boxes  in  London  and  smaller  hidden  green 


336  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

ones  in  the  city  on  the  island  ;  but  these  things  are 
small  details.  In  the  main,  both  cities  are  much 
alike,  and  the  men  and  women  behave  in  much  the 
same  way.  We  have  no  street  to  compare  with 
Fifth  Avenue,  and  they  have  no  park  to  compare 
with  Regent's  Park;  but  we  drive  out  and  dine 
out  just  the  same ;  we  eat  and  think  and  dress 
and  read  just  the  same,  or  any  way  so  much  alike, 
we  seem  to  be  one  big  family  party,  which  is  just 
as  it  should  be. 

Society  is  becoming  more  and  more  alike,  but 
society  does  not  represent  a  nation.  It  is,  after  all, 
only  an  item.  The  stronger  this  chain  is  made, 
the  better  for  the  whole  world.  The  English- 
speaking  race  dominates.  Look  at  the  States  and 
Canada  in  the  West,  Great  Britain,  South  Africa  ; 
in  the  East,  India,  Australia,  and  New  Zealand  ;  to 
say  nothing  of  the  English-speaking  people  scattered 
all  over  the  world.  Do  these  millions  not  constitute 
a  colossal  strength  and  power  ?  and  is  it  not  there- 
fore right  they  should  understand  each  other, 
sympathise,  and  take  that  same  interest  in  each 
other's  doings  which  exists  between  the  members 
of  any  large  family. 

Every  European  hotel  has  a  bedroom  bell. 
Above  it  is  a  little  card  denoting  how  many  times 
to  ring  for  the  waiter,  the  maid,  or  the  boots ; 
even  in  Egypt  the  Arab  is  available.  In  America 


From  The  New  New  York. 

NEW  YORK  IN  RAIN  (PARK  AVENUE) 
Drawn  by  Joseph  Pennell. 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS  337 

there  are  no  bells,  and  the  "  bell-boy "  is  becoming 
extinct ;  formerly  he  was  called  upon  for  everything. 

A  certain  lady  —  married  to  an  American  —  who 
had  just  landed  in  a  New  York  hotel,  had  not 
ordered  a  room  with  a  bath,  because  she  did  not 
know  the  necessity  of  that  extravagance.  She 
looked  about  for  the  bell  in  vain.  She  wanted  hot 
water  to  wash.  She  opened  her  door  and  called. 
She  waited.  No  one  passed.  At  last  in  her  dress- 
ing-gown (wrapper)  she  sallied  forth.  At  the  far 
end  of  a  long  passage  she  heard  the  sound  of  drip- 
ping water.  There  she  saw  a  servant  and  near  her 
were  jugs. 

"Can  I  have  some  hot  water,  please?"  she 
smilingly  asked. 

"There's  the  tap  and  there's  a  can,"  was  the 
reply. 

The  English  lady  was  surprised. 

"  I  would  like  some  hot  water  every  morning  at 
half  past  seven,  and  in  the  evening  at  six,  please." 

"Fetch  it  yourself,  then." 

Collapse  of  the  stranger,  who  had  no  idea  that 
the  telephone  beside  her  bed  was  to  be  used  for 
every  conceivable  purpose,  even  for  the  supply 
of  hot  water,  and  her  personal  request  had  there- 
fore been  resented.  Some  people  are  beginning  to 
think  they  should  play  for  six  days  of  the  week 
and  only  work  on  the  seventh. 

Nowadays,   after  many  telephones   and   much 


338  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

perturbation  an  off-hand  American  or  Irish  woman 
arrives.  Every  servant  is  better  than  her  mis- 
tress, so  she  "kindly  condescends"  to  hook  one's 
blouse  or  fasten  one's  evening  dress. 

Of  course  we  women  are  fools  to  wear  such  unut- 
terably inconvenient  clothing,  and  to  exist  without 
a  single  pocket,  while  the  ordinary  man  has  sixteen. 
We  are  fools,  and  we  suffer  badly  for  our  folly. 

It  is  equally  unavailing  to  wish  one's  hot-water 
bottle  filled,  or  to  have  one's  boots  cleaned, 
both  being  unobtainable  luxuries ;  British  women 
would  call  them  necessities.  There  are  beautiful 
boots  and  shoes  in  America ;  but  no  one  in  the 
house  to  clean  them. 

With  luck,  ice-water  may  be  procured  in  the 
midnight  hours  of  the  coldest  night  —  another 
American  paradox.  It  is  a  land  of  topsy-turvy- 
dom. 

Does  the  American  traveller  ever  oversleep  him- 
self ?  If  so,  heaven  help  him. 

It  is  utterly  unavailing  to  ask  to  be  called  at  a 
certain  hour.  The  office  clerk  looks  aghast,  and 
if  he  smilingly  promises  that  the  traveller  shall 
be  aroused,  his  underling  conveniently  forgets. 
One  either  wakes  oneself,  or  sleeps  on  unheeded, 
and  forgotten. 

No  one  is  called  in  the  ordinary  way.  No  blinds 
are  drawn.  No  bath  water  run  in.  No  early  cup 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS  339 

of  tea  tempts  one  from  one's  bed,  except  in  multi- 
millionaires' homes,  in  the  length  and  breadth  of 
America.  There  are  millionaires  who  have  "emi- 
grated" to  other  lands  sufficiently  often  to  pick 
up  their  ways  of  comfort.  Even  in  small  homes  in 
England  we  are  called  at  seven  or  eight ;  we  women 
get  a  cup  of  tea,  our  blinds  are  drawn  with  a  smiling 
"Good-morning,  Madam,"  our  bath  is  run  in,  the 
towels  are  put  in  place,  our  cleaned  boots  are 
put  out,  and  often  we  are  asked  which  dress  we 
will  wear,  and  it  is  neatly  laid  out  for  use.  But 
then  England  has  been  the  land  of  domestic 
comfort,  and  it  will  be  a  bad  day  for  rich  and  poor 
alike,  if  it  ever  becomes  a  land  of  mob  rule. 

America,  as  far  as  comfort  is  concerned,  is  only 
fitted  for  the  rich. 

Invitations  were  issued  for  a  card-party  at  two 
o'clock,  and  at  two  o'clock  punctually  a  stream 
of  smart  ladies  entered  the  house.  The  door  was 
opened  by  a  darky  butler,  and  the  visitors  were 
ushered  upstairs  to  take  off  their  cloaks. 

The  chrysalis  unfurled,  and  out  came  the 
feminine  butterfly  in  all  her  glory.  Light  silks, 
white  foulards,  and  painted  muslins  on  an  October 
day  were  made  transparently  open  at  the  neck. 
Light  hats  and  white  plumes  nodded  from  every 
head ;  veritable  garden-party  attire  all  these 
women  wore,  and  wondrous  smart  they  looked. 


340  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

There  is  no  doubt  about  it,  American  dames  dress 
extremely  well.  Evening  dress  in  England  is  far 
more  in  vogue  and  while  women  in  the  States  are 
far  better  dressed  on  the  whole  from  breakfast  till 
dinner-time  than  Europeans,  thereafter  they  fail, 
and  the  Englishwoman  romps  ahead. 

More  people  have  private  cars  in  England  than 
in  America,  so  while  we  go  out  to  dine  in  our  car  or 
taxi,  Americans  go  by  tram,  train,  or  hansom, 
which  last  is  still  in  vogue  although  almost  ob- 
solete in  London.  A  cloak-room,  therefore,  is  a 
queer  sight ;  long,  dark  cloaks  are  doffed,  shawls 
and  hats  discarded,  overshoes  slipped  off.  The 
women  have  learnt  how  to  pin  up  their  skirts  and 
manage  to  hide  their  evening  clothes  to  perfection, 
but  still  this  awful  tram  or  train  business  means 
that  American  women  do  not  look  so  smart  in  the 
evening  as  Britishers. 

But  to  return  to  the  card-party.  Every  blind 
in  the  house  was  drawn  down  as  usual  at  two 
o'clock,  and  all  the  electric  lights  were  turned  on. 
Perhaps  it  was  thought  more  respectable  to  begin 
card-playing  in  an  illumination  which  at  least 
savoured  of  the  evening. 

The  game  was  auction  bridge.  Six  tables  of 
four  women  each  meant  twenty-four  ladies,  to 
say  nothing  of  the  handful  of  onlookers.  They 
sat  at  small,  square  tables,  made  on  trestles  ex- 
pressly for  the  purpose,  and  the  chairs  were  narrow. 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS  341 

On  every  table,  covered  with  its  tightly  stretched, 
daintily  embroidered  white  linen  cloth,  a  dish  of 
American  candies  reposed,  and  before  the  afternoon 
was  "through,"  as  our  Western  sisters  would  say, 
the  candies  had  all  disappeared. 

For  nearly  two  hours  the  game  proceeded, 
played  in  a  most  serious  manner ;  then  darky 
waiters  came  in,  cleared  the  cards  and  the  glasses 
in  which  orange  punch  had  been  served,  and  laid 
the  table-cloths  for  other  and  more  substantial 
refreshments. 

Chicken  salad  at  four  o'clock,  with  hot  buttered 
rolls  and  cups  of  coffee,  were  followed  by  ice- 
creams and  cakes,  and  of  course  the  inevitable 
punch.  Then  the  scores  were  totalled  up,  amid 
much  amusement  and  good-natured  chaff,  and 
then  the  three  prizes  were  given  —  and  valuable 
and  tasteful  prizes  they  were  too  —  with  almost 
as  much  formality  as  at  a  school  function. 

The  women  all  seemed  to  be  in  the  best  of  tem- 
pers, were  all  good  friends,  and  took  as  much 
trouble  to  amuse  one  another  as  though  each 
woman  was  flirting  with  a  man.  How  quaint 
it  is  to  hear  people  talk  of  "Mary's  beau,"  and 
"Annie's  many  beaux,"  merely  meaning  her  male 
chums. 

One  delicious  thing.  It  is  seldom  necessary  to 
talk.  They  love  talking,  and  will  talk  on  and  on, 
and  will  never  notice  if  their  visitor  is  silent.  They 


342  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

love  to  talk,  or  if  not  talking,  they  will  ask  ques- 
tions ;  but  the  stranger  will  not  otherwise  get  in 
a  word  edgeways. 

No  stranger  —  foreigners,  we  British  are  called  — 
is  ever  allowed  to  tell  a  story,  or  talk  according  to 
our  idea  of  being  entertaining.  There  is  no  con- 
versation, the  talking  is  all  on  one  side.  We  must 
lecture,  answer  questions,  or  be  silent.  Dinner- 
table  conversation  is  entirely  monopolised  by  the 
family  party.  The  stranger  is  usually  mum.  He 
is  not  encouraged  to  vouchsafe  any  opinion  unless 
asked  a  direct  question.  He  hears  his  own  coun- 
try discussed,  but  he  is  not  asked  to  correct  any 
possible  errors.  His  host's  party  is  perfectly  happy 
and  jolly  among  its  own  members,  and  his  surest 
route  to  popularity  is  to  hold  his  tongue. 

The  raconteur,  so  valued  in  Europe,  is  unknown 
in  the  States. 

Bridge  entertainments,  theatre  parties,  or  any- 
thing to  evade  an  evening  where  the  hostess 
wonders  how  she  will  entertain  her  friends  ;  never 
realising  that  if  her  friends  are  worth  their  salt, 
they  will  entertain  one  another. 

Unfortunately  there  are  people  all  over  the  world 
who  talk  big.  They  have  a  superficial  knowledge  of 
things,  and  certain  trite  quotations  from  Goethe, 
Nietzsche,  Strindberg,  Ibsen,  Shaw,  La  Bruyere, 
or  d'Annunzio.  They  really  know  little  about  any 
of  them  beyond  their  names ;  but  they  think  by 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS  343 

continually  quoting  them  or  dragging  those  names 
in  with  a  query,  such  as  "What  do  you  think  of 
Strindberg  ?"  or  "Don't  you  remember  in  Ibsen's 
'Doll's  House'  ?"  or  "I  approve  of  Nietzsche's 
philosophy,"  they  will  impress  their  hearers  by 
their  profundity.  They  often  do  so,  because  we 
are  seldom  quick  enough  to  gauge  that  shallow 
waters  have  a  good  deal  of  glint  on  the  surface. 

Twice  I  went  to  dances ;  I  love  a  good  waltz. 
Even  an  elderly  scribe  can  dance  —  because  if 
one  has  skated  or  danced  or  ridden  much,  at 
any  time,  one  never  forgets  how  to  do  it.  So, 
although  I  seldom  go  to  a  ball  nowadays,  I  can 
enter  into  the  fun,  and  enjoy  myself.  Accordingly, 
to  two  parties  I  went,  particularly  anxious  to  see 
American  dancing. 

At  a  certain  ball  in  England,  an  old  servant 
watched  the  proceedings  from  an  upper  gallery. 
The  next  morning  she  asked  her  young  lady,  who 
was  the  debutante,  what  a  certain  dance  she  had 
seen  could  be. 

"Oh,  that  was  the  Kitchen  Lancers." 

"Lancers  it  may  be,  Miss  Jean,  but  no  one  in 
the  kitchen  would  dance  in  that  vulgar  way," 
retorted  the  maid. 

I  feel  much  the  same  about  the  "bunny  hug" 
and  the  "turkey  trot "  and  other  zoological  dances. 
Dear  old  darkies  footing  out  the  beams  in  a  slow 
roily,  leisurely  way  to  their  own  droning  tune 


344  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

are  quite  charming,  but  that  respectable  white 
people  can  call  such  a  performance  a  dance,  is 
deplorable. 

To  see  young  men  and  women  with  their  arms 
round  one  another's  necks,  their  bodies  closely 
pressed  together,  performing  indecent  antics  to 
the  delirious  strains  of  music  is  a  sad  spectacle.  To 
see  middle-aged  men  and  women,  the  women's 
legs  showing  through  split  skits,  or  too  tight 
skirts  and  no  petticoats,  wobbling  about  like  over- 
fed turkeys  in  tight  embrace,  is  disgusting.  The 
bodily  contortions  remind  one  of  saints  on  early 
stained-glass  windows,  and  the  faces  resemble 
martyrs  at  the  stake.  Thank  heaven,  when  these 
American  dances  started  in  a  mild  form  in  Lon- 
don, good  society  vetoed  them  from  the  drawing- 
rooms.  The  English  hostess  was  right.  They 
are  vulgar,  suggestive,  and  not  even  artistic  to 
look  upon.  While  we  clamoured  for  rag-time 
America  sought  our  serious  drama. 

Novelty  helps  existence ;  but  novelty  that  is 
retrograde  is  better  left  alone.  Outside  these 
childishly  grotesque  and  inartistic  performances 
the  men  and  women  of  America  dance  extremely 
well,  and  since  the  Russian  invasion  step  dancing 
is  quite  a  feature. 

Tolstoi  by  the  bye  wrote  a  book  that  made  one 
shudder  at  the  insult  to  all  that  is  beautiful  in  music. 

"Turkey  trots"  and  "bunny  hugs"  make  one 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS 


345 


r  i 


By  permission  of  the  New  York  Times. 

IN  LONDON  GOOD  SOCIETY  VETOED  THEM  FROM  THE  DRAWING-ROOMS 


346  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

sorry  for  Terpsichore.  Such  dancing  is  not  poetic, 
and  yet  when  he  chooses,  the  American  dances 
beautifully. 

To  get  into  the  "best  Society"  in  New  York, 
one  must  be  both  conventional  and  normal. 

Every  spark  of  genius  is  taboo.  Every  mental 
novelty  is  looked  on  askance,  and  conventionality 
has  full  swing.  The  Bohemian  set  try  to  throw  off 
the  thraldom  and  exaggerate  the  unconventional 
until  they  become  too  unrestrained.  To  wit,  the 
"bunny  hug"  and  the  "freak"  parties.  The 
bunnies  should  now  return  to  their  warrens,  and 
the  turkeys  to  the  farmyard  ;  neither  are  fit  for  the 
ballroom. 

The  most  modern  idea  is  for  the  guests  at  a 
ball  to  remain  to  breakfast.  The  dance  begins 
late,  refreshments  are  served  all  through  the  night, 
but  by  breakfast  time  a  good  solid  meal  is  required. 
As  no  servants  can  be  expected  to  serve  a  new 
meal  in  the  early  hours  after  an  all-night  entertain- 
ment, these  swell  New  Yorkers  repair  in  battalions 
to  Sherry's,  and  there  enjoy  their  breakfast  in 
their  dishevelled  garb.  If  this  continues,  private 
house  balls  will  discontinue.  Guests  will  dine, 
dance,  sup,  dance  again,  and  breakfast  at  an 
hotel.  Madrid  and  Berlin  never  appear  to  go  to 
bed.  Does  New  York  wish  to  follow  suit  ? 


CHAPTER  XV 
NIAGARA  UP-TO-DATE 

God's  Work,  Man's  Slave. 
Even  Niagara  is  up-to-date. 

THE  Philistine  is  doing  his  best  to  ruin  one  of 
God's  greatest  works,  but  luckily  he  cannot  suc- 
ceed. 

He  has  written  his  name  in  letters  of  shame  on 
seats  in  the  public  parks  on  each  side  of  Niagara's 
stupendous  Falls ;  he  has  scrawled  his  hideous 
hieroglyphics  on  rocks  at  every  point  of  view; 
he  has  even  put  up  advertisements  hard  by, 
exploiting  pills  and  powders  and  soaps  and  shams  ; 
he  has  erected  large  chimneys  and  hideous  factories 
below  the  Falls ;  but,  in  spite  of  all,  he  cannot 
spoil  Niagara.  He  has  tried  hard,  this  up-to-date 
advertiser,  but  he  has  failed  as  yet  to  ruin  one  of 
Nature's  triumphs. 

We  crossed  by  boat  from  Toronto  on  the  Cana- 
dian side  to  Lewiston.  It  is  only  two  and  a  half 
hours'  steam  over  the  narrowest  part  of  Lake 
Ontario ;  nevertheless  quite  a  number  of  people 
managed  to  be  uncomfortably  ill,  and  certainly 
we  did  pitch  a  little,  in  spite  of  the  barrels  of  sand 

347 


348  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

kept  for  the  purpose  that  were  rolled  from  side 
to  side  by  boys  to  steady  our  ship.  The  United 
States  Custom-house  officer  was  on  board,  and 
"Oh,  my  !"  as  our  Canadian  friends  exclaimed,  "he 
did  just  rout!"  He  searched  rigorously;  even 
small  hand-bags  were  denuded  of  every  bottle  and 
packet  for  inspection,  so  particular  are  the  authori- 
ties in  these  matters. 

Leaving  the  lake  at  "Niagara  on  the  Lake," 
we  had  a  pleasant  seven  miles'  run  up  the  river  to 
Lewiston,  where  the  electric  tram  awaited  us. 
This  calm,  pretty,  reposeful  Niagara  River  is  the 
outlet  of  several  enormous  lakes  which  divide  parts 
of  America  from  Canada.  Though  near  the  foot  of 
the  great  Falls,  it  looked  so  quiet  and  peaceful 
that  we  experienced  much  difficulty  in  realising 
that  those  thousands  of  miles  of  lakes,  and  those 
great  cataracts,  could  be  emptying  themselves 
through  this  comparatively  small  river  into  the  sea. 

It  was  early  in  October ;  the  hotels  were  shutting 
up  for  the  winter,  the  boats  making  their  last 
passages,  and  yet  the  hundreds  and  hundreds  of 
wooden  baskets,  full  of  peaches,  grapes,  green- 
gages, apples,  and  pears,  which  carpeted  the  wharf, 
all  grown  near  Niagara,  hardly  suggested  winter, 
but  rather  warm  summer  weather,  which  indeed  it 
was,  for  the  thermometer  stood  at  78°  in  the  shade. 

It  is  a  wonderful  tram-car  journey,  that  gorge 
line  —  some  seven  miles  long  —  from  Lewiston  to 


NIAGARA  UP-TO-DATE  349 

Niagara  Falls,  built  so  close  to  the  edge  that  often 
the  rails  are  barely  two  feet  from  the  side  of  a  cliff 
dropping  sheer  down  some  twenty  to  forty  feet, 
with  a  cataract  or  whirlpool  swirling  away  below. 
On  our  left  the  cliff  rose  perpendicularly  some  two 
hundred  or  three  hundred  feet. 

As  we  neared  the  village  of  Niagara  Falls  the 
road  became  more  and  more  beautiful ;  and  a 
huge  rock  here,  a  cave  there,  added  grandeur  to 
the  scene. 

At  the  whirlpool  we  drew  up  for  a  moment ; 
it  seemed  almost  like  a  small  lake,  so  completely 
was  it  shut  in,  but  the  waters  were  comparatively 
calm  as  they  swirled  round  and  round  in  endless 
rotation.  Here  was  the  very  representation  of 
the  proverb,  "Still  waters  run  deep";  many  hun- 
dreds of  feet  deep  is  this  whirlpool,  yet  a  barrel 
will  continue  turning  round  and  round  for  days 
upon  its  surface. 

Several  mad  attempts,  such  as  those  of  Captain 
Webb  and  Captain  Boynton,  and  various  wild 
efforts  in  barrels,  have  been  made  to  descend  from 
the  rapids  above  and  cross  this  whirlpool ;  but 
almost  every  case  has  proved  certain  suicide. 
The  people  who  look  on,  and  so  encourage  such 
exploits,  ought  to  be  heartily  ashamed  of  their 
morbid  love  of  excitement.  It  is  an  awful  thing 
to  think  that  human  beings  will  pay  to  stare  at  a 
man  literally  risking  his  own  life  and  courting 


350  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

death,  for  the  sake  of  a  possible  handful  of  gold  ; 
but  they  will  do  so,  to  the  shame  of  every  country 
alike,  whenever  they  get  the  chance,  so  great  is 
the  craving  for  the  gruesome. 

The  Whirlpool  rapids  are  wonderful,  and  far 
more  turbulent  than  the  whirlpool  itself.  They 
are  naturally  at  the  narrowest  part  of  the  river, 
which  is  there  spanned  by  two  splendid  railway 
bridges.  In  the  course  of  one  mile  the  rapids  make 
a  drop  of  over  a  hundred  feet  as  the  waves  froth 
and  foam  and  swirl  over  one  another. 

Strangely  enough,  not  only  does  the  water  look 
like  the  waves  of  the  ocean  beating  upon  the  land 
in  a  storm,  but  there  is  almost  a  sea  smell  in  the  air, 
although  the  water  is  really  fresh.  A  green, 
seaweedlike  growth  covers  the  rocks,  and  perhaps 
the  smell  may  proceed  from  that ;  in  any  case, 
it  is  distinctly  noticeable. 

The  clock  struck  six  as  we  left  the  hotel  at 
"Niagara"  on  the  American  side,  and  wandered 
forth  for  our  first  peep  at  the  Falls  before  dinner. 
We  passed  through  Prospect  Park,  heard  the 
swirl  of  the  upper  rapids,  realised  that  evening  was 
drawing  in  with  the  strange  rapidity  it  does  in  these 
climes ;  and  then  all  in  a  moment  we  seemed  to 
stand  on  the  very  brink  of  the  American  Fall  itself. 

This  was  Niagara.  This  mystic  veil  shrouded 
the  widest,  noblest  waterfall  of  the  world  ;  for 
though  report  says  the  Victoria  Falls  on  the 


NIAGARA  UP-TO-DATE  351 

Zambezi  are  just  as  fine,  it  is  in  their  height  that 
their  wonder  lies. 

We  heard  the  rush,  and  stood  still. 

It  was  a  wonderful  sensation  suddenly  to  find 
oneself  near  enough  to  the  edge  of  the  flow  to  be 
able  to  touch  the  water  with  an  umbrella,  as  it  took 
its  dive  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  feet  into  the  seething 
cauldron  of  froth  and  spray  below. 

It  is  absolutely  impossible  to  give  any  idea  of 
the  magnitude  of  volume  of  that  water,  which,  as 
we  saw  it,  in  the  short  twilight  and  quickly  gather- 
ing darkness  of  night,  seemed  weird  in  its  vastness, 
and  eerie  in  its  grey-blue  opalescent  charm.  The 
great  Canadian  Horseshoe  Fall,  by  far  the  grander 
of  the  two,  was  lost  in  spray  and  evening  mists. 
Verily,  a  scene  of  poetry  and  romance  ;  and  yet  of 
strength  withal,  for  the  power  of  that  force  is 
stupendous.  It  seemed  unreal,  untrue,  half 
hidden  by  a  mist  of  watery  crystals  and  covered 
by  a  veil  of  darkness. 

Grey  clouds  descended  to  meet  the  ascending 
foam ;  all  seemed  unfathomable,  weird,  and 
strange ;  a  hazy  moon  rose  rapidly  in  the  sky 
and  we  shuddered  as  we  thought  of  the  horrors  of  a 
pouring  wet  day  on  the  morrow,  which  indeed 
seemed  imminent  after  such  a  grey,  misty,  autumn 
evening. 

Next  morning,  however,  all  was  changed ;  the 
watery  moon  had  given  place  to  gorgeous  sun, 


352  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

the  grey  clouds  had  dispersed,  and  the  heavens 
were  blue,  a  vast  expanse  of  cobalt  blue.  When  we 
reached  Prospect  Point  a  little  after  breakfast,  it 
seemed  impossible  that  the  wild,  ethereal,  Brocken- 
like  effect  could  have  been  followed  by  such  a 
glorious  Indian-summer  day.  We  saw  more  than 
on  the  previous  evening ;  we  saw  everything  clear 
and  sharp  and  distinct ;  we  loved  the  rainbows 
chasing  each  other  in  the  spray ;  but  the  charm 
and  the  poetry  had  gone. 

Niagara  in  the  glare  of  the  day  was  disappointing, 
and  we  longed  for  the  evening  again.  We  longed 
for  the  mist  to  hide  those  hideous  advertisements 
which  hit  us  and  hurt  us.  But  we  had  not  time 
to  dally,  for  a  day  and  a  half  is  little  enough  at 
Niagara  ;  so  into  a  wonderful  electric  railway  shoot 
we  went,  and  in  a  few  seconds  were  whirled  down 
below  the  cliffs,  and  into  the  little  steamer  known 
as  the  Maid  of  the  Mist,  which  goes  right  up  to 
the  very  Falls  themselves. 

We  took  off  our  hats  and,  putting  on  mackintosh 
coats  and  head  coverings,  sat  boldly  on  deck.  The 
spray  from  the  Falls  is  more  wetting  than  a  really 
steady  downpour  of  rain,  for  it  comes  not  merely 
from  above  and  the  sides,  but  rises  up  from  below  ; 
it  comes  from  everywhere,  in  fact,  and  the  drops 
of  water  simply  poured  down  our  noses.  But  it 
was  worth  going  through  such  an  experience, 
although,  when  we  really  turned  round  under  the 


NIAGARA  UP-TO-DATE  353 

Horseshoe  Falls  on  the  Canadian  side,  the  feeling 
of  bobbing  about  in  a  cockle-shell  on  a  whirlpool 
was  rather  ghastly,  and  we  all  had  to  hold  tight  to 
keep  our  seats  on  the  deck  at  all,  so  tremendous 
is  the  force  of  the  water  across  which  this  little 
craft  ventures. 

The  spot  known  as  Rock  of  Ages  forms  a  perfect 
picture.  The  rugged  brown  grandeur  of  the  stones, 
the  white  frothy  spray,  and  the  green  and  blue 
hues  of  the  water,  with  the  sun  shining  through, 
made  a  scene  such  as  no  artist's  brush  could  ever 
catch  in  feeling,  colour,  or  force.  The  sublimest 
works  of  nature  can  never  really  be  reproduced 
by  art ;  for,  at  its  best,  art  cannot  depict  fleeting 
sentiment,  ever  changing  beauty.  Every  cloud, 
every  sunbeam,  alters  the  scene  on  which  it  falls, 
as  every  thought  changes  the  expression  of  a  face. 
Pictures,  much  as  we  love  them,  can  only  express 
one  phase  ;  they  cannot  represent  all. 

It  was  a  short  trip,  though  an  extremely  interest- 
ing one  ;  and  we  left  our  boat  on  the  Canadian  side 
to  drive  along  the  park  and  go  under  the  Horse- 
shoe Fall,  so  as  to  obtain  an  idea  of  the  water 
from  below. 

The  Canadian  side  is  certainly  the  best  from 
which  to  see  Niagara  Falls ;  the  views  are  better, 
the  park  is  better;  nature  is  left  more  to  herself; 
and  is  not  disfigured  by  such  enormous  hotels 
with  rows  and  rows  of  straight,  ugly  windows. 


354  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

Having  driven  along  the  top  of  the  cliff,  we 
arranged  to  go  below  the  Falls. 

"Will  the  lady  step  into  that  room  ?"  asked  an 
attendant,  which  the  lady  accordingly  did. 

"You  must  take  off  nearly  all  your  things  and 
put  on  these  mackintosh  trousers,  coat,  and 
helmet,"  was  the  next  mandate.  We  mildly  re- 
monstrated, but  remonstrance  was  of  no  use ; 
the  woman  assured  us  we  should  be  wet  to  the 
skin  unless  we  did  as  she  bid  us,  and  subsequent 
experiences  proved  that  she  was  right. 

The  black  trousers  were  large  and  baggy,  of 
the  peg-top  order,  and  about  as  thick  as  a  coach- 
man's driving  apron.  The  attendant  tied  them 
in  at  the  knees  with  white  tape  to  keep  them  off  the 
ground,  for  they  seemed  to  have  been  made  for  a 
woman  at  least  six  feet  six  inches  in  height. 
Goloshes  —  so  loved  by  The  Private  Secretary  and 
by  all  Americans  —  were  next  adjusted  from  a 
row  which  contained  some  hundreds  of  pairs,  re- 
minding us  of  Ibsen's  hall  in  Christiania,  where  we 
saw  goloshes  standing  in  rows  one  snowy  winter ; 
then  the  coat  was  fixed,  and  the  headgear,  after 
putting  a  towel  round  the  throat,  was  strapped 
on.  What  a  sight.  What  sights,  indeed,  we  all 
looked  !  Then  out  into  the  sunshine  we  went, 
men  and  women  seeming  exactly  alike,  and  yet 
each  more  hideous  than  the  other.  We  laughed 
and  chatted,  got  into  the  lift,  and  were  whirled 


NIAGARA  UP-TO-DATE  355 

below,  to  walk  along  a  small  wooden  pathway 
with  occasional  staircases,  —  all  very  slippery, 
and,  to  our  thinking,  not  over  substantial.  It 
became  wetter  and  wetter  under  foot  and  more 
drenching  from  above  as  we  proceeded,  and  we 
soon  realised  the  good  lady  was  right ;  no  ordinary 
clothing  could  have  withstood  a  millionth  part  of 
the  spray  of  Niagara. 

We  paused  almost  in  front  of  a  branch  of  the 
Fall  and  tried  to  look  up  ;  but  so  blinding  was  the 
whirlwind  of  spray  that  we  could  hardly  see. 

The  cavern  was  washed  out  by  the  wash  of 
ages. 

A  huge  sheet  of  water,  a  stupendous  curtain  of 
force,  so  thick  that  its  transparent  drops  were 
massed  into  a  translucent  wall,  fell  beside  us.  It 
was  so  thick,  so  dense,  so  immense  that  we  could 
barely  see  the  beams  of  light  through  that  massive 
veil  of  water. 

The  spray  filled  our  eyes,  hung  upon  our  lashes, 
ran  down  our  noses  until  we  tried  to  gasp  out  that 
we  had  seen  enough ;  and  gladly  turned  away. 
The  sound  was  deafening ;  we  could  not  hear  one 
another  speak.  The  spray  was  too  great  to  allow 
us  to  see  anything,  and  yet  this  was  only  a  small 
branch  of  the  Falls  themselves.  It  gave  a  wonder- 
ful idea  of  what  the  hourly,  weekly,  monthly, 
yearly  overflow  of  those  Falls,  which  Goat  Island 
divides,  must  be. 


356  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

"Please  walk  this  way,"  said  our  guide,  and  into 
a  long,  dark  passage,  with  a  tiny  gleam  of  light  at 
the  end,  we  went. 

So  great  is  the  force  of  the  fall  that  it  flows 
outwards  many  feet  from  the  rocks  themselves, 
and  enables  people  actually  to  stand  under  the 
arch  of  water  in  comparative  comfort.  On  looking 
up  there  seems  a  veritable  roof  of  water  through 
which  the  sun  shines  ;  on  our  right  was  the  grey 
rock  over  which  the  water  rushes,  while  on  our 
left  was  a  wall  of  water,  falling  into  the  seething 
pool  far  away  below. 

Niagara  is  worth  travelling  many  hundreds  of 
miles  to  see  ;  its  power,  its  strength,  its  force,  teach 
a  sermon  far  deeper  and  more  lasting  than  the 
best  of  sermons,  or  the  finest  books  of  man.  Even 
the  most  frivolous  must  pause  and  think  before  such 
a  masterpiece  of  majestic  Beauty  and  Power.  It 
is  devoutly  to  be  hoped  that  the  material  gain  to  the 
industrial  undertakings  in  the  neighbourhood  will 
not  be  allowed  to  destroy  one  of  the  greatest,  most 
forceful,  and  most  awe-inspiring  sights  of  the  world. 

There  is  only  one  Niagara ;  Canada  and  the 
States  may  well  be  proud  of  their  possession,  and 
ought  to  guard  such  a  treasure  from  the  clutches 
of  the  speculator. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
A  MISSISSIPPI  DARKY  CAKE  WALK 

MORAL  conventionality  is  the  outcome  of  public 
philosophy. 

The  Mississippi  Negro  is  a  remarkable  type. 
"Gentleman"  he  would  call  himself,  for  all  darkies 
are  "ladies"  and  "gentlemen,"  and  their  em- 
ployers "men"  and  "women."  They  have 
strange  and  wonderful  ways,  and  their  customs 
are  most  interesting.  They  seem  to  value  human 
life  as  they  would  that  of  a  dog.  When  I  visited 
the  darky  prison  in  New  Orleans,  among  the 
folk  who  were  waiting  trial  were  nearly  thirty 
who  had  been  arrested  for  murder,  the  youngest 
of  whom  was  a  nice-looking  boy  of  fifteen.  Nig- 
gers shoot  or  stick  one  another  on  the  slightest 
provocation,  and  consider  the  successful  man  in 
such  a  squabble  quite  a  hero. 

But  they  have  their  gayer  moments,  and  a 
"cake  walk"  is  one  of  them.  The  Highlander 
has  his  reel,  the  Irishman  his  jig,  the  Indian  his 
nautch  dance,  the  Argentina  his  tango,  and  the 
American  darky  his  cake  walk. 

The  origin  of  the  term  "cake  walk"  seems  some- 

357 


3S8  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

what  obscure.  Many  folks  affirm,  however,  that 
in  the  old  slave  days,  the  best  performer  was  given 
a  cake  as  a  reward,  the  common  expression,  "He 
takes  the  cake,"  originating  from  this  institution. 
The  cake  is  now  rarely  a  prize  at  these  amusing 
entertainments,  but  fortunately  the  dance  sur- 
vives. 

It  was  in  New  Orleans  that  I  first  saw  a  cake 
walk,  that  delightfully  quaint  old  French  town, 
with  its  green-shuttered  houses  and  balconies, 
its  ill-paved  roads,  and  its  open  street  drains, 
where  a  passer-by  often  has  to  jump  over  an 
open  gutter,  like  a  small  river,  in  order  to  reach 
the  high  footpath  at  all.  There  are  many  more 
blacks  than  whites,  and  it  is  this  dark  population 
which  so  often  causes  trouble,  although  it  is  not 
as  bad  as  Barbados,  where  there  are  seven  blacks 
to  one  white,  or  as,  at  Bahia,  in  Brazil,  where 
eighty  per  cent  of  the  people  are  negro. 

New  Orleans  is,  of  course,  a  famous  port ;  but 
it  is  more  than  that,  —  there  is  an  Old-world  air 
about  it,  and  it  is  delightfully  picturesque.  It 
is  most  amusing  to  watch  the  jet-black  porters  on 
the  wharves  handling  the  snow-white  cotton, 
which  comes  down  the  Mississippi  in  shiploads  for 
exportation.  The  vessels  that  bring  it  are  the 
funniest  things  imaginable;  they  are  generally 
flat-bottomed,  and  at  the  back  is  an  enormous 
wheel  or  paddle,  the  entire  width  of  the  ship  itself. 


A  MISSISSIPPI  DARKY  CAKE  WALK      359 


Drawn  by  Vernon  Howe  Bailey. 

A  SOUTHERN  HOMESTEAD 


360  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

The  darkies  work  on  the  quay  all  the  week,  and 
on  Sundays  enjoy  themselves.  Some  thirty  or 
forty  of  them  were  assembled  in  a  large  square, 
ready  for  a  cake  walk,  and  as  we  approached, 
they  were  enjoying  their  Sunday  afternoon 
festivities.  Some  of  the  folks  were  leaning 
against  the  wall,  others  lying  on  the  pave- 
ment, some  were  sitting  on  their  heels,  in  that 
curious  way  they  have ;  but  one  and  all  seemed 
bent  on  enjoyment,  and  chatted  and  laughed 
merrily.  Two  men,  one  in  a  green  flannel  shirt, 
the  other  in  a  red  one  almost  faded  to  pink, 
were  performing  a  cake  walk  in  the  middle.  They 
were  the  real  African  nigger  type,  with  huge  lips, 
lovely  teeth,  wide  nostrils,  and  crisp,  frizzy  hair,  like 
astrakhan,  but  there  was  an  artistic  touch  about 
them,  displayed  in  their  love  of  beautiful  colours, 
and  something  really  graceful  about  the  movements 
of  these  children  of  nature.  They  would  bow  to 
each  other,  quite  low  salaams,  and  then  join  in  a 
slow  measured  waltz.  They  would  catch  one 
another  by  the  shoulders  or  hands,  and  perambu- 
late and  wriggle,  often  with  bent  knees,  through  the 
onlookers,  waving  a  stick  the  while,  as  an  Irish- 
man would  his  shillelagh.  They  twisted  their 
bodies  into  all  kinds  of  queer  shapes,  but  so  slowly 
and  gracefully  that  it  was  a  pleasure  to  watch 
them. 

Then  a  woman  joined  the  two  men  :  she  was  fat, 


A  MISSISSIPPI  DARKY  CAKE  WALK      361 

but  like  the  others  was  imbued  with  the  poetry 
of  motion.  They  all  danced  in  measured  time 
some  sort  of  minuet,  the  onlookers  clapping  an 
accompaniment  to  the  fiddler's  tune  as  the  old 
blind,  white-haired  musician  played  away,  sitting 
on  an  inverted  pail.  One  trio  after  another  took 
part  in  the  cake  walk,  and  the  set  that  received 
the  most  acclamation  claimed  the  prize. 

A  dancing  lady's  hair  was  particularly  interest- 
ing, although  it  subsequently  proved  to  be  a 
common  style  of  head-dress.  The  hair  of  a  nigger 
is  so  tightly  curled  up,  that  it  is  almost  impossible 
to  comb  it ;  therein  originates  the  style  of  dressing. 
Her  scalp  was  divided  by  seven  partings,  one  down 
the  middle,  and  three  down  each  side.  Each 
little  bunch  of  short  hair  was  carefully  combed, 
screwed  up  as  tight  as  it  would  go,  and  tied  with  a 
red  ribbon,  the  hair  above  the  knot  being  cut  off 
quite  close.  The  result  was  extraordinary. 
Fancy  sleeping  on  eight  knobs  !  Imagine  any- 
thing more  unbecoming  than  this  screwed-up  style 
of  head-dress,  which,  report  says,  takes  so  long 
to  comb  out,  it  is  often  not  redone  for  a  year. 

The  women  are  not  beautiful ;  their  only  claim 
to  that  title  being  their  lovely  teeth. 

This  lady  dancer  wore  a  pink  cotton  gown,  and 
round  her  neck  a  green  scarf,  which  toned  so  ex- 
actly with  the  pink,  that  it  might  have  been  chosen 
by  Botticelli  instead  of  a  Mississippi  mammy. 


362  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

She  was  quite  shy  when  we  complimented  her, 
actually  covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  and 
blushed,  if  such  a  dark  skin  could  blush.  Many 
white  women  who  make  dancing  a  profession, 
would  give  a  good  deal  to  possess  the  grace  of  this 
stout  black  woman,  who  moved  her  arms  and  her 
hands,  and  swayed  her  body  as  to  the  manner 
born.  The  modern  drawing-room  attempt  at 
turkey  trots  is  vulgar  and  hideous  in  comparison 
with  this  native  grace.  There  is  no  doubt  that, 
though  not  physically  strong,  these  darkies  are 
often  splendidly  developed  men  and  women,  tall 
of  stature,  and  extremely  graceful,  but  they  have 
one  great  failing,  —  they  will  tell  a  lie  as  soon  as 
look  at  you,  and  they  love  to  steal  small  things  - 
your  stockings  are  their  stockings,  your  handker- 
chiefs are  their  handkerchiefs,  —  in  their  eyes, 
—  and  they  tell  you  so  ;  they  seldom  rob  on  a  large 
scale.  A  sin  is  a  sin ;  but  when  it  is  simply  and 
humbly  acknowledged,  it  earns  forgiveness. 

Once  in  a  private  railway  car,  a  funny  little 
incident  happened  with  a  darky.  He  was  of 
Portuguese  origin,  and  hardly  understood  English. 

He  brought  some  hot  water  about  seven  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  and  proceeded  to  draw  up  the 
blinds.  "It  is  very  foggy,"  I  said,  wishing  to  be 
friendly. 

"Boggy,  no  boggy,  me  know  no  boggy,"  and  he 
looked  sadly  perplexed. 


A  MISSISSIPPI   DARKY  CAKE  WALK      363 

"It  is  misty,"  I  said  in  further  explanation. 

"Oh,  yes,  ma'am;  misty,  yes,  misty/'  and, 
nodding  his  head,  away  he  went. 

A  few  minutes  later  he  returned  with  a  tray, 
a  bottle,  and  a  glass.  He  imagined  whisky  was 
the  subject  of  conversation,  and  produced  it  tri- 
umphantly at  seven  A.M.  ! 

The  bulk  of  the  negroes  are  English  speaking, 
and  have  the  most  beautifully  soft  musical  voices ; 
but  round  New  Orleans  most  of  the  darkies  are 
French,  and  it  seems  as  strange  to  hear  these  black 
folk  talking  French,  as  it  is  to  see  them  with  curly 
white  hair. 

A  boxing-match  was  another  amusing  sight. 
A  couple  of  tin  pails  were  turned  upside 
down  for  the  combatants  to  sit  upon,  old  sacks 
being  spread  below  as  carpets.  The  two  men 
solemnly  proceeded  to  take  off  their  boots ;  then 
one,  in  a  striped  shirt,  and  wearing  no  stockings 
—  not  even  rags  bound  round  his  feet,  as  the 
Finlander  or  Italian  so  often  does  —  boxed  in 
bare  feet,  though  the  other  gentleman  wore  socks. 
Each  had  his  second,  and  the  surrounding  crowd 
was  betting  on  the  result.  Everything  was  done 
in  the  most  businesslike  way.  Dollar  bills  — 
pieces  of  paper  each  worth  about  four  shillings  — 
were  used,  and  the  bills  ran  up  to  eight  or  ten 
dollars.  A  couple  of  pounds  for  a  darky  to  bet  is 
no  mean  sum,  and  shows  how  well  off  they  are. 


364  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

They  dearly  love  a  gamble,  and  dice-throwing  is 
their  great  game.  Somehow  they  always  remind 
one  of  children.  It  seems  impossible  to  believe 
they  are  grown-up  men  and  women,  disporting 
themselves  in  such  childish  fashion. 

What  a  strange  person  the  negro  really  is.  He 
makes  a  first-class  servant.  A  darky  cook  is 
excellent,  and  a  butler  efficient.  He  is  often  faith- 
ful ;  many  of  the  old  slaves  and  their  children  are 
working  to-day  on  the  same  plantations  on  which 
they  were  reared  in  bondage ;  and  if  he  takes  a 
fancy  to  his  employers,  he  will  literally  lay  down 
his  life  for  them.  Everyone,  however,  who  has 
anything  to  do  with  darkies,  invariably  speaks 
of  them  as  childish,  with  undeveloped  minds  and 
irresponsible  ways.  If  they  are  put  in  a  position 
of  real  authority,  they  lose  their  head,  become  ar- 
rogant and  unbearable,  and  often  terribly  cruel 
to  those  beneath  them.  They  seem  to  have  been 
born  to  serve,  and  not  to  command,  as  may  be 
realised  from  the  episodes  in  Putumayo. 

But  even  the  black  man  is  waking  up  to  his  own 
inportance.  He  has  taken  to  pince-nez,  like  the 
rest  of  America,  and  he  may  some  day  be  disturbed 
by  his  blood  pressure,  although  his  skin  is  so 
swarthy  it  is  difficult  to  believe  his  blood  is  really 
red  ;  but  it  is. 

It  strikes  a  stranger  as  most  extraordinary  to 


A  MISSISSIPPI  DARKY  CAKE  WALK      365 

see  tram-cars  and  railway  carriages  labelled 
"Blacks,"  or  "Whites."  Yet  such  are  universal 
in  the  Southern  States.  The  different  races  are 
forbidden  by  law  to  intermarry,  in  some  of  the 
American  states,  and,  as  already  mentioned,  cus- 
tom prevents  their  even  travelling  together.  Often 
quite  a  pale  person  gets  into  a  Jim  Crow  car,  and 
one  wonders  why,  until  the  stranger  is  told :  "He 
knows  he  has  black  blood  and  takes  his  place 
accordingly.  His  children  may  all  be  quite 
black." 

Only  a  few  days  before  I  reached  New  Orleans 
there  had  been  a  deadly  shooting  affray  between 
whites  and  blacks.  People  may  shrug  their  shoul- 
ders in  disbelief,  but  the  United  States  have  a 
very  great  problem  before  them,  and  one  which 
may  cost  them  more  lives  than  the  Philippines : 
that  is  the  increase  in  numbers  and  strength  of 
the  negro  population. 

In  that  splendid  modern  city  Washington,  every 
third  or  fourth  person  is  coloured.  They  are 
often  rich  and  well-to-do,  and  are  driven  about  in 
their  own  carriages  and  cars  by  white  men,  and 
their  homes,  both  rich  and  poor,  are  dovetailed  in 
between  the  finest  dwellings. 

As  one  travels  farther  south,  one  finds  that 
though  the  negroes  may  be  less  rich,  they  are  more 
numerous,  and  it  is  in  this  enormous  uneducated 
population  that  the  danger  lies. 


366  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

There  are  over  a  hundred  thousand  coloured 
folk  in  New  Orleans  alone,  many  of  whom  of 
the  lowest  possible  type  are  employed  on  the 
docks.  A  hundred  thousand  persons  compose  an 
army,  a  far  larger  army  than  America  herself 
can  put  in  the  field ;  for  she  can  only  number 
about  thirty  thousand. 

Although  whites  and  blacks  generally  live  peace- 
ably together,  there  is  sometimes  a  smouldering 
fire  below,  and  when  once  roused,  these  race  riots 
are  difficult  to  deal  with,  and  mean  mischief. 

The  darky  is  jovial  and  childish  when  at  play, 
but  he  is  dangerous  and  cruel  when  roused. 

He  has  given  us  cake  walks,  turkey  trots,  per- 
haps rag-time,  and  certainly  coon  songs.  He  is  a 
study  in  himself,  and  his  status  is  one  of  the  most 
intricate  questions  of  the  future. 

The  paler  his  skin,  the  more  high  bred  and  aris- 
tocratic he  considers  himself. 

What  a  wonderful  problem  would  be  unfolded 
if  the  blacks  and  the  whites  were  encouraged  to 
marry.  The  whites  are  the  stronger  and  longer 
lived,  the  blacks  the  most  prolific.  Suppose 
those  blondes  from  Scandinavia  and  the  frizzy- 
headed,  thick-lipped  blacks  from  Africa  all  inter- 
married —  what  would  the  result  be  in  a  hundred 
years  ?  Would  a  yellow-skinned,  grey-coloured 
race  people  America  ?  It  would  indeed  be 
a  great  study  of  colour,  capacity,  racial  char- 


A  MISSISSIPPI   DARKY  CAKE  WALK      367 


368  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

acteristics,  and  all  the  rest  of  it.  But  —  horrible 
thought  —  would  the  result  be  a  success  ? 

Intermarriage  of  black  and  white  often  ends  in 
consumption  and  other  diseases,  especially  in  the 
second  generation.  According  to  the  theories  of 
Abbe  Mendel,  when  breeding  fowls  of  two  kinds, 
about  fifty  per  cent  show  the  mixed  blood,  and 
twenty-five  per  cent  follow  each  parent,  and  even 
then  certain  dormant  characteristics  reappear  in 
the  fourth  and  fifth  generation.  How  would  this 
apply  to  the  blacks  and  the  whites  ?  Perhaps, 
then,  it  would  only  be  necessary  to  have  one  form 
of  tram-car,  and  that  might  be  grey. 

The  black  population  is  enormous.  Will 
it  end  in  a  race  war  ?  To-day  there  are  pro- 
fessors in  the  land  who  are  suggesting  that  the 
only  possible  solution  of  this  great  problem  is 
the  absorption  of  the  black  race  by  the  whites ; 
to  encourage,  in  fact,  matrimony  between  the 
two  races. 

Will  it  work  like  the  hens  ? 

In  twelve  years  they  have  made  vast  strides. 
In  1900,  I  never  saw  a  darky  except  in  some  sub- 
servient post  —  as  railway  porter,  restaurant 
waiter,  domestic  servant,  boot-cleaner,  street- 
sweeper,  or  something  of  that  kind. 

It  is  a  terrible  thing  to  be  born  with  a  curse 
upon  one's  head  ;  and  really,  it  seems  to  the  on- 
looker that  the  darky  opens  his  eyes  on  this  land 


A  MISSISSIPPI  DARKY  CAKE  WALK       369 

of  promise  to  be  handicapped  at  every  turn. 
America  has  not  yet  solved  this  great  problem  for 
herself.  Twelve  years  ago  marriage  between  the 
blacks  and  whites  was  denounced  in  horror,  and 
such  is  still  the  case  in  many  states,  although  a 
famous  boxer  married  twice,  and  each  time  was 
allowed  to  espouse  a  white  girl. 

In  1904,  a  diamond-blazoned  individual  trav- 
elled in  the  Twentieth  Century  Express  to  the 
West,  much  to  the  amazement  of  an  American  am- 
bassador who  was  kindly  looking  after  me  on  that 
trip.  He  was  furious.  He  fretted  and  fumed ; 
the  coloured  gentleman  had  paid  for  his  ticket, 
he  could  probably  have  bought  us  all  out ;  he 
stuck  to  his  guns.  He  did  not,  however,  come  to 
dine,  but  was  served  by  a  fellow-darky  in  the  car 
while  we  were  in  the  restaurant.  He  slept  in  the 
berth  next  to  me,  in  spite  of  all  the  protests  of  the 
American  ambassador. 

In  1912  these  people  were  everywhere.  At 
a  Club  one  day  I  was  having  a  chat  with 
the  hall  porter,  a  pleasant,  smiling  youth  with 
the  most  delightful  manners  possible  ;  but  he  was 
black  as  a  coal  and  his  head  as  curly  as  a  door-mat. 

"I'm  learning  law,"  he  said. 

"Learning  law  ?" 

"Yes,  m'arm,  I'm  going  to  be  a  lawyer,  and  I'm 
making  the  money  at  the  Club,  so  as  to  study. 
I'm  off  every  evening  at  eight,  and  then  my  real 

2B 


370  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

work  begins.     This  ain't  no  work  ;  it's  just  fun." 

That  is  the  modern  darky. 

These  coloured  people  are  queer  folk.  They 
are  so  insolent  one  wants  to  knock  them  down, 
even  a  woman  feels  like  that ;  or  they  are  so  polite 
one  feels  it  is  a  joy  to  be  waited  on  by  them. 
People  say  they  assimilate  the  ways  of  those  about 
them,  and  a  master  can  be  judged  by  the  manners 
of  his  servant.  A  good  darky  is  a  joy,  a  bad  one 
wants  kicking  for  his  insolence.  In  one  of  the 
best  hotels  in  America  I  asked  the  hall  porter  the 
way  to  a  certain  house. 

"Walk  along  two  blocks  and  turn  west." 

"Which  is  west  ?"  I  ventured  to  ask. 

"West  is  west,"  he  surlily  replied,  all  the  time 
keeping  a  long  lighted  cigar  between  his  teeth. 

"I  am  a  stranger,  and  would  be  much  obliged 
if  you  would  explain  whether  I  am  to  go  left  or 
right." 

"Left,"  he  insolently  snorted,  and  puffed  a 
great  whiff  of  smoke  into  my  face. 

That  man  wanted  kicking. 

Then  again  I  have  known  them  perfectly  de- 
lightful, especially  when  a  white  man  was  in  sight. 

These  children  of  nature  have  an  amusing  way 
of  calling  everyone  "miss,"  and  when  there  hap- 
pens to  be  a  mother  and  daughter  in  the  same  es- 
tablishment, they  will  say  "Miss  Smith,  m'arm," 
or  "Miss  Smith,  miss." 


A  MISSISSIPPI  DARKY  CAKE  WALK      371 

It  is  very  curious  how  not  only  the  darkies  but 
other  people  mix  their  grammar  and  use  quaint 
words.  For  example,  "Did  you  sleep  good?" 

"I  feel  good"  (well). 

"She  made  good"  (meaning  "she  has  been  a 
success"). 

"He  is  shovelling  coal"  (meaning  that  he  has 
died  and  gone  to  Hades). 

"She  sat  down  and  buzzed  to  me." 

"It  is  way  down  town." 

"It  stuck  way  out." 

"He  has  a  lovely  disposition." 

"Throwing  bouquets  at  themselves  "  (blowing 
their  own  trumpets). 

"Movies"   (another  title  for  cinematographs). 

"I'll  send  a  porter  right  back  here." 

"Come  on  back  right  here." 

"I  don't  think  he  is  coming  any."  One  wonders 
why  "any"  should  stand  at  the  end  of  the 
sentence. 

A  house  "to  let"  is  called  "for  rent"  or  in 
Scotland  "to  feu." 

"You  can't  squelch  him"  is  American  slang  for 
"shut  him  up." 

The  white  man  who  lives  beside  the  black  man 
—  it  matters  not  in  what  country  —  always  re- 
fuses to  assimilate  with  the  lower  race.  It  is  so 
in  Africa  ;  it  is  so  in  the  West  Indies  ;  it  is  so  in  the 
United  States. 


372  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

Coloured  people  are  terribly  superstitious.  At 
the  time  of  the  awful  Galveston  storm,  September, 
1900,  when  more  than  eight  thousand  human 
beings  met  their  death  in  a  few  hours,  perishing 
cruelly  by  wind  and  wave,  the  dark  population 
was  petrified.  Above  the  altar  of  St.  Mary's  Cathe- 
dral was  a  large  wooden  crucifix.  The  storm  had 
torn  down  the  wall  behind  it,  but  in  some  wonder- 
ful manner  the  enormous  cross,  when  falling  out- 
wards, was  caught,  and  hung  there  at  an  angle  of 
forty-five  degrees,  a  weird  illustration  of  the  lower- 
ing of  the  cross  which  the  black  thought  an  evil 
omen.  I  was  in  Galveston  a  few  weeks  later,  and 
saw  and  heard  many  terrible  tales.  One  darky,  tell- 
ing me  how  he  left  the  death-stricken  town,  said  :  - 

"Oh  my,  it  was  like  getting  out  of  hell  !"  And 
his  simile  was  suggestive. 

It  is  interesting  to  hear  the  old  mammy  sing- 
ing to  her  baby  at  a  street  corner,  or  to  watch 
her  down  on  the  wharf  waiting  with  her  picka- 
ninnies to  give  her  husband  his  dinner.  The  little 
black  children  gambol  and  frolic  like  young  lambs, 
and  the  mother  croons  away  at  her  quaint  old  coon 
songs. 

There  is  something  particularly  melodious 
about  their  voices,  and  yet  there  is  at  the  same 
time  a  sad  ring  in  their  intonation.  Look  at 
their  coon  songs,  first  introduced  into  London 
by  that  inimitable  actor,  Brandon  Thomas, 


A  MISSISSIPPI  DARKY  CAKE  WALK      373 

whose  name  is  best  known  as  the  author 
of  "Charley's  Aunt."  They  sing  on  all  possible 
occasions,  and  are  very  fond  of  music  in  every 
form.  They  beat  music  out  of  an  old  tin  can  or 
a  riddle  at  a  cake  walk. 

There  is  no  doubt  about  it  that  darky  blood 
is  musical,  though  it  has  not  produced  any  great 
musician,  with  the  exception  of  the  late  Coleridge 
Taylor,  whose  works  have  been  given  at  festivals 
all  over  the  world,  and  yet  died  such  a  poor  man. 
So  badly  the  Arts  are  paid.  He  might  have  made 
more  with  a  hawker's  barrow. 

"I  must  take  you  to  Begue's,"  exclaimed  a 
friend  in  New  Orleans. 

"And  what  may  Begue's  be  ?"  I  enquired,  of 
course  imagining  that  it  was  some  quaint  building 
in  that  charming  old  Creole  city,  but  it  proved 
to  be  nothing  of  the  kind. 

"It  is  an  eating-house,"  was  the  reply,  "or 
rather,  as  it  would  doubtless  prefer  to  be  called 
nowadays,  a  restaurant." 

The  great  meal  of  the  week  is  on  Sunday  at 
twelve  o'clock,  and  so  popular  has  this  dejeuner 
become  that  one  has  to  procure  seats  some  days 
in  advance. 

We  arrived  in  a  back  street,  and  entered  a  small 
and  by  no  means  inviting  doorway.  It  is  quite 
near  that  attractive  old  French  market  which 


374  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

is  certainly  one  of  the  chief  charms  of  New 
Orleans. 

Up  a  curious  wooden  stairway  we  tumbled,  into 
a  dining-room.  There  was  nothing  imposing 
about  it;  a  frugal  place,  truly,  to  which  the 
term  eating-house  seemed  quite  appropriate,  but 
despite  its  extreme  simplicity  everything  was 
clean.  At  one  long  table  people  were  seated,  and 
immediately  at  the  back  was  the  kitchen  from 
which  most  savoury  odours  emanated.  So  near 
was  it  that  we  could  hear  everything  cooking, 
and  the  fried  food  literally  hopped  from  the  pan 
on  to  the  plates  before  us.  It  reminded  me  of  the 
sanded  floor  of  the  famous  "Cheshire  Cheese" 
in  Fleet  Street,  but  the  old  Creole  dining-room  was 
still  more  primitive. 

A  fat,  comfortable  woman  in  a  blue  print  dress 
and  large  white  apron  at  once  stepped  forward ; 
this  was  the  renowned  Madame  Begue.  By 
birth  German,  the  good  Hausfrau  had  studied 
the  culinary  art  from  her  early  days.  Married  to 
a  Frenchman  who  was  evidently  an  epicure,  she 
and  her  husband  by  their  united  efforts  made  one 
of  the  most  famous  little  eating-houses  in  the 
world. 

Madame  Begue  knew  my  companion,  —  she  was 
acquainted  with  everyone  of  note  inNewOrleans, — 
and  in  the  most  delightful  effusive  fashion  shook 
hands  with  him,  and  at  once  took  me  to  her 


A  MISSISSIPPI  DARKY  CAKE  WALK      375 


Drawn  by  Vernon  Howe  Bailey. 

AN  OLD  SOUTHERN  CHURCH 


376  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

heart,  so  to  speak,  because  I  could  talk  German. 
She. then  proudly  showed  me  her  kitchen,  which 
was  quite  a  small  place,  chiefly  composed  of  stove, 
but  the  brass  pots  shone  so  brilliantly,  the  lettuces 
looked  so  bright  and  green,  the  tomatoes  so  red, 
and  everything  was  so  well  kept  and  orderly  that 
the  visit  to  the  kitchen  was  appetising  in  itself. 

Man  has  ever  been  the  slave  of  his  stomach,  but 
since  the  days  of  epicurean  Rome  surely  no  calves' 
liver  was  ever  so  well  cooked  as  in  that  Creole 
kitchen.  I  still  cherish  its  memory,  and  am  ap- 
parently not  alone  in  that  opinion,  for  a  would-be 
poet  has  written  the  following  verses  in  Madame's 
visitors'  book :  - 

New  York  is  noted  for  her  bridge, 
Ohio  for  her  river, 
Edison  for  electric  lights, 
But  Madame  B.  for  liver. 

But  then  this  dish  is  Madame  Begue's  great 
specialty. 

Eugene  Field,  the  American  poet,  wrote  in  that 
famous  book :  — 

I'm  very  proud  to  testify 
The  happiest  of  my  days, 
Is  March  n,  '95, 
At  Breakfast  at  Begue's. 

After  we  were  seated  there  was  a  great  silence ; 
we  almost  felt  as  if  we  were  in  church.  No  one 


A  MISSISSIPPI   DARKY  CAKE  WALK      377 

spoke  above  a  whisper  ;  an  air  of  expectation  seized 
upon  the  guests.  Suddenly  a  shrill  whistle  which 
almost  made  us  jump  from  our  seats  rent  the  air. 
What  was  it  ?  Could  it  be  a  fire  alarm  or  a  negro 
rising  ?  It  was  nothing  so  troublesome ;  merely 
the  call  of  the  maitre  d?  hotel  to  announce  that  the 
dejeuner  was  about  to  be  served.  Every  course 
was  heralded  in  the  same  weird  fashion. 

Sweetbread  omelette  and  red  snapper  fish  served 
with  tomato  sauce  were  wonderful,  to  say  nothing 
of  those  stewed  prawns  which,  in  New  Orleans, 
are  four  or  five  inches  long. 

"Mine  host,"  in  a  white  hat,  with  a  white  apron 
covering  his  ponderous  form,  was  the  butler,  as- 
sisted by  a  couple  of  garqons,  and  after  each 
course  he  came  to  enquire  solicitously :  — 

"Madame,  est-elle  contente  ?" 

He  was  very  fat  and  very  good-natured,  this 
smiling  Frenchman,  who  found  the  plates  so  hot 
he  could  hardly  hold  them,  and  the  little  room 
was  so  small  that  when  we  were  all  seated  there 
was  not  much  room  for  Monsieur  to  pass  behind 
his  customers. 

Bottles  of  red  wine  stood  down  the  centre  of 
the  table,  and  were  included  in  the  menu  in  truly 
French  fashion.  The  Begues  could  fill  their 
dining-room  over  and  over  again  every  day,  but 
thirty  is  their  maximum ;  they  can  cook  for  and 
superintend  that  number  themselves,  and  no  offer 


378  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

of  gold  will  tempt  them  to  increase  their  gains  or 
renounce  their  personal  attention. 

Formerly  this  old  place  was  the  dining  haunt  of 
ships'  captains  and  wharfmen,  and  so  it  is  still  on 
week-days ;  but  on  Sundays  it  is  the  fashionable 
resort,  and  the  swells  of  New  Orleans  and  visitors 
from  afar  clamour  for  seats  at  that  cheap  and 
hospitable  board. 

The  simplicity  of  the  whole  thing  had  a  great 
charm,  and  the  fact  of  being  so  near  the  kitchen 
meant  that  everything  was  served  absolutely  hot ; 
but  it  was  very  funny  to  see  the  dear  old  fat  lady 
appear  at  the  kitchen  door  after  every  course  was 
served,  pan  in  hand,  sleeves  rolled  up  to  the  elbow, 
just  to  smile  on  everyone  and  receive  their  ap- 
probation before  embarking  on  her  next  dish. 

Inside  the  kitchen  old  darky  women  were  wash- 
ing plates. 


CHAPTER  XVII 
PRAIRIE  PEEPS 

MANY  horsey  things  are  exciting,  but  a  drive 
behind  a  pair  of  smart  American  trotters  will 
easily  hold  its  own. 

"Sit  tight,  say  nothing,  and  I  will  make  them 
spin,"  said  my  host. 

And  he  did. 

It  was  a  glorious  autumn  day,  and  that  wonder- 
ful river,  the  Hudson,  was  Jooking  its  best.  The 
gold  and  yellow  of  the  trees,  deepening  into  dark- 
est russet  browns,  the  glorious  reds  of  the  sugar 
maples  cannot  be  understood  until  they  are  seen, 
for  verily,  they  are  scarlet,  cardinal  red,  or  orange. 
The  vivid  green  of  other  leaves,  the  high  rocky 
headlands,  the  wide  expanse  of  water,  its  small 
craft,  barges,  and  bigger  river  steamers,  all  tend 
to  make  the  Hudson  attractive  in  what  our  Ameri- 
can friends  call  the  "Fall."  They  are  right;  it 
is  the  Fall,  as  the  carpet  of  leaves  lying  on  the 
ground  testifies.  Somehow,  I  was  reminded  of 
the  wilder  parts  of  Scotland  —  certainly  not  the 
heather  and  the  pine,  or  even  the  bracken  —  they 
were  missing.  The  beautiful  colouring,  the  crisp 

379 


3  So  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

feeling  in  the  air,  and  the  bright  sky  overhead 
were  there ;  only  all  more  golden  and  more  red, 
more  vivid  in  hue.  Running  along  the  east  bank 
of  the  river,  where  the  rocks  are  not  perpendicular, 
as  they  are  on  the  other  side  (which  is  known  as 
the  Palisades),  is  a  roadway,  and  here  we  went 
for  our  spin.  Houses  dot  the  lawns  along  the 
Hudson  River,  almost  from  New  York  to  Albany, 
for  it  is  a  famous  summer  resort,  and  some  of  those 
houses  are  veritable  palaces,  owned  by  the  rich 
millionaires  of  Yankee-land. 

My  host's  portico  possessed  a  double  staircase 
which,  curving  down  on  either  side  to  the  carriage 
drive,  ended  opposite  the  porch  door  in  a  platform 
about  three  feet  high,  falling  sheer.  This  ar- 
rangement is  for  getting  into  buggies  or  dogcarts, 
and  by  its  means  the  occupant  is  not  obliged  to 
step  up  or  down  at  all,  but  simply  walks  from  the 
stone  platform  into  the  vehicle  itself. 

These  American  buggies  are  something  peculiar 
to  the  country.  They  are  so  light  and  fragile  to 
look  upon,  that  one  is  amazed  they  do  not  fall  to 
pieces,  especially  after  a  drive  behind  the  famous 
trotters.  The  spindle  wheels,  of  which  there  are 
four,  have  india-rubber  tyres.  The  little  seat  is 
so  small,  it  seems  impossible  that  two  grown 
people  can  occupy  the  same,  while  there  is  no 
place  for  a  man  behind,  but  a  dear  collie  dog  did 
scramble  in,  and  by  some  wonderful  proficiency 


PRAIRIE  PEEPS  381 

in  the  art  of  balance,  kept  his  place  till  our 
return.  Like  ourselves,  he  evidently  enjoyed  the 
excitement,  because  as  soon  as  the  trotters  came  to 
the  door,  he  jumped  up  behind,  and  was  always 
most  woebegone  if  told  to  come  down,  although 
his  position,  clinging  on  at  the  back,  could  hardly 
have  been  an  enviable  one. 

Before  us  was  a  small  splash-board,  and  in  front 
of  that  again,  a  netted  metal  guard  to  keep  back  the 
mud  ;  it  was  really  something  like  the  guard  I  have 
sat  behind  in  Norway,  when  sledging,  to  hold  back 
the  snow :  these  help  to  keep  one  clean,  but  are 
in  no  way  efficient,  as  I  soon  learnt  to  my  cost, 
by  a  big  lump  of  mud  getting  into  my  eye. 

The  horses  wear  very  little  harness,  no  collar  at 
all ;  a  strap  for  a  breastplate,  and  instead  of  the 
bearing  reins,  they  have  another  strap  from  the 
top  of  the  head  to  the  withers.  This  is  to  give 
the  driver  some  purchase  over  them ;  without  it 
they  would  become  utterly  uncontrollable,  and  to 
help  him  in  such  an  emergency,  he  has  a  couple 
of  loops  on  the  reins,  through  which  he  can 
pass  his  hands,  and  thereby  gain  still  greater 
power  in  holding  in  the  excited  steeds.  Once 
started  off  at  their  full  pace,  trotters  cannot 
easily  be  pulled  up ;  therein  lies  the  danger. 

A  pair  of  good  trotters  will  cost  as  much  as  five 
thousand  dollars  ;  so,  as  can  readily  be  understood, 
they  are  a  luxury.  They  certainly  do  not  look 


382  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

worth  their  value,  for  they  are  a  weedy  lot  in  ap- 
pearance ;  having  long  legs,  long  bodies,  long  necks, 
long  tails,  they  seem  composed  of  extremities,  with 
very  little  body  of  a  horse  at  all.  The  fact  is, 
they  are  all  muscle,  and  although  so  thin  to  look 
upon  (they  are  a  small  stamp  of  horse  from  Ken- 
tucky) manage  to  eat  more  than  any  other  breed. 
Being  comfortably  tucked  up  with  a  rug  in  the 
buggy,  and  a  golf  cape  to  keep  away  the  mud,  we 
started.  A  minute  or  two,  and  we  were  out  of  the 
grounds  on  the  Hudson  River  road.  Away  we 
spun.  A  good  deal  more  is  done  in  the  manage- 
ment of  these  trotters,  by  word  of  mouth,  than  by 
the  reins,  and  so  splendidly  are  these  animals 
trained  that  they  obey,  not  instantly  (for  that  is 
impossible  with  the  pace),  but  gradually.  To  give 
some  idea  of  the  lightning  speed  at  which  a  trotter 
can  go,  a  mile  has  often  been  done  in  two  minutes 
and  four  seconds  along  the  "speedway,"  a  drive 
outside  New  York,  lying  a  little  beyond  Central 
Park.  So  wild  a  career  as  this,  however,  cannot 
be  kept  up,  although  a  pair  such  as  my  host  was 
handling  would  accomplish  sixteen  or  eighteen 
miles  an  hour  quite  easily.  Think  of  it  !  Eigh- 
teen miles  an  hour  behind  a  pair  of  horses.  Of 
course,  action  is  out  of  the  question.  They  have 
no  time  for  that  sort  of  thing.  They  simply  go, 
and  one  feels  that  they  are  going  so  fast  it  would 
be  impossible  to  pull  up  in  an  emergency.  Every 


PRAIRIE  PEEPS  383 

muscle  in  their  bodies  seems  to  work ;  they  have 
barely  time  to  switch  their  tails  as  they  tear  along. 

It  is  a  curious  thing  that  in  so  great  a  sporting 
country  as  England  fast  trotters  have  never  really 
been  established,  for  England  is  the  home  of  all 
sport,  and  the  originator  of  most ;  but  in  this  par- 
ticular case  the  honour  belongs  to  America,  and 
its  means  of  perfection  also.  Of  course,  the  horses 
are  trained,  but  they  are  always  the  descendants 
of  trotters  to  begin  with,  and  are  at  their  best  from 
four  to  nine  years  of  age.  Much  depends  on  their 
speed,  but  much  more  on  their  lungs,  for  a  horse 
which  is  not  sound  in  the  wind  could  never  be 
trained  to  become  a  trotter  at  all. 

On  we  flew  past  Yonkers,  and  through  Irvington, 
the  leaves  falling  from  the  trees  like  a  veritable 
shower  of  gold,  as  the  wind  swept  up  the  river. 
Who  will  deny  that  it  was  exciting  ?  But  some- 
how, in  spite  of  the  pleasure  and  the  novelty,  I  felt 
that  it  was  a  terrible  strain  on  the  animals  them- 
selves. The  jar  of  coming  down  upon  the  hard 
roadway  at  such  a  pace  must  be  felt  by  them,  and 
it  cannot  be  good  to  tear  along  at  such  speed, 
although  their  condition  was  so  perfect  that  they 
were,  as  I  said  before,  without  one  superfluous 
ounce  of  flesh  on  their  bodies,  and  they  hardly 
turned  a  hair. 

When  we  reached  home,  the  dear  old  collie  dog 
was  still  hanging  on  behind,  and  the  trotters  did  not 


384  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

look  any  the  worse  for  their  spin.  There  was  no 
froth  about  their  mouths,  nor  were  their  coats  even 
damp,  and  they  went  off  cheerfully  to  the  stable, 
to  be  thoroughly  well  rubbed  and  blanketed. 

America  is  to  be  congratulated  upon  her  trotters, 
and  an  hour  behind  a  smart  pair  of  them  is  an  ex- 
perience worth  remembering. 

While  writing  of  horses  it  may  be  as  well  to  tell 
a  little  story  that  happened  to  the  writer :  One 
day,  in  New  York,  I  was  on  Fifth  Avenue,  the  only 
quiet,  peaceable  street  in  all  that  vast  city,  for  it 
is  not  riddled  with  tram-car  lines  or  overhead 
railways,  and  therefore  one  can  cross  the  road 
without  peril  to  life.  It  began  to  rain  ;  I  had  no 
umbrella,  and  alas,  was  wearing  my  best  hat. 
Every  woman  will  sympathise,  for  we  all  treasure 
in  our  hearts  the  possession  of  a  best  hat.  Stand- 
ing in  the  doorway  of  a  druggist's  shop  for  some 
minutes,  I  watched  the  rain  descending  steadily, 
and  there  being  no  omnibus  and  no  sign  of  one,  I 
decided  I  should  have  to  be  extravagant  —  and 
in  New  York  it  is  a  veritable  extravagance  — 
and  take  a  hansom  home.  Now,  be  it  understood, 
a  drug-store  is  not  like  ours  in  England ;  for,  while 
one  counter  is  given  up  to  drugs,  the  other  sells 
"soft  drinks."  Is  this  arrangement  prophetic? 
Do  they  drink  too  many  iced  concoctions  on  the 
one  side  and  require  physic  on  the  other  ?  Anyway, 
the  druggist  seems  to  do  a  thriving  trade,  and  both 


PRAIRIE  PEEPS  385 

branches  prosper.  Going  up  to  a  man  at  the  iced- 
drinks  counter,  I  ventured  to  ask :  "  Do  you 
think  I  could  possibly  get  a  hansom  cab  ?"  He 
looked  at  me,  and,  seizing  a  tumbler  in  his  hand, 
"No,  ma'am/'  he  said,  "but  I  can  mix  you  a 
horse's  neck."  He  thought  I  was  mad,  and  I 
thought  he  was  rude,  but  after  all  it  was  nothing ; 
for  one  of  the  soft  drinks  in  America  is  called  a 
"horse's  neck,"  and,  as  I  subsequently  found,  is 
extremely  good.  It  is  composed  of  ginger  ale 
with  the  entire  rind  of  a  lemon,  and  well  iced, 
and  as  the  man  thought  my  "hansom  cab,"  was 
a  drink,  he  imagined  a  "horse's  neck"  would  do 
quite  as  well. 

"Where  are  you  going  to,  next  ?"  a  friend  asked 
one  day. 

"Coss.     Cobb.     Conn." 

"Where  ?" 

"Coss.     Cobb.     Conn.,"  was  my  reply. 

"What  do  you  mean  ?" 

"What  I  say.  "  Wyndy  Goul."  Coss.  Cobb. 
Conn." 

The  interrogator  looked  surprised.  But  the 
address  was  correct,  and  my  host  and  hostess  were 
the  author  of  "Wild  Animals  I  Have  Known," 
Ernest  Thompson-Seton,  and  his  brilliant  wife. 

Born  in  England,  he  was  taken  to  America 
by  his  father  at  the  age  of  six,  and  then  sent 

2C 


386  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

back  to  the  land  of  his  birth  to  be  educated.  He 
rambled,  and  tried  his  hand  at  many  things.  Then 
he  began  to  lecture.  I  was  at  one  of  his  early  lectures 
in  the  Carnegie  Hall,  New  York,  in  October,  1900. 
Mark  Twain  was  beside  me,  and  we  went  on  to  the 
platform  afterwards.  It  was  not  much  of  a  lec- 
ture ;  the  hall  was  not  very  full,  and  the  hero  was 
just  feeling  his  way.  He  has  given  hundreds, 
almost  thousands  of  lectures  since  then,  all  over 
England  and  America,  and  his  name  is  known  to 
every  boy  and  girl  who  loves  animals.  Thompson- 
Seton's  success  has  come. 

Mark  Twain  (Mr.  Clemens)  was  a  curious  per- 
sonality. I  only  saw  him  once  or  twice,  but  I 
always  felt  he  owed  far  more  to  his  wife  than  the 
world  knew.  After  her  death  he  never  wrote 
another  successful  work.  He  chaffed  Americans, 
and  they  loved  him ;  but  then  he  lived  mostly 
abroad,  so  he  did  not  have  to  explain  personally 
what  he  meant  by  his  little  jokes. 

Mr.  Seton's  "  Wyndy  Goul  "  is  a  home  after  the 
hunter's  own  heart.  Thirty  miles  northeast  of 
New  York,  the  house  stands  on  a  small  hill  in  a 
wood.  It  is  an  artistic  place,  with  large  open  fire- 
places and  bearskins  on  the  floors ;  but  the  walks 
around  are  the  chief  joy. 

It  was  a  few  days  before  Christmas  when  I  was 
there  ;  four  or  five  inches  of  ice  covered  the  lake ; 
but  the  sun  shone,  and  when  the  wind  dropped  at 


PRAIRIE  PEEPS  387 

sundown,  it  seemed  more  like  September  than 
December. 

Mr.  Seton  has  many  hobbies ;  one  is  his  skunk 
yard,  where  he  is  breeding  these  queer  little  black 
furry  beasts  experimentally;  the  last  thing  at 
night,  however  cold  or  wet,  he  went  out  to  feed  and 
look  after  the  welfare  of  his  young  families. 

There  is  far  more  of  the  artist  than  the  hunter  in 
the  appearance  of  the  "Chief  Scout  of  America." 
He  is  tall  and  thin,  with  dark  hair,  and  penetrating 
dark  eyes  shaded  by  gold-rimmed  glasses.  It  is  a 
benevolent  face,  and  one  sees  the  gentle  nature  that 
turned  its  back  on  hunting  big  game,  preferring 
to  study  the  animals'  habits  in  the  wild,  and  then 
to  paint  or  lecture  about  them,  rather  than  shoot 
them. 

That  charming  home,  that  motor-car,  that  little 
flat  in  New  York,  all  the  luxury  and  comfort,  are 
earned  by  the  fertile  brain  of  this  artist-writer  of 
English  origin  and  American  habitation. 

Mr.  Seton  is  casual  by  nature,  not  to  say  a  wee 
bit  untidy ;  he  can  himself  find  what  he  wants  in 
his  big  workroom,  but  to  anyone  else  it  is  a  chaos 
of  skins  and  pictures,  books  or  Indian  dresses, 
stuffed  birds  or  native  beadwork ;  just  a  hunter's 
hodge-podge. 

An  excellent  picture  by  Zorn  of  Mrs.  Seton  in 
her  ride-astride  dress  stands  on  an  easel.  It  re- 
minded me  of  my  first  ride  astride  as  a  girl  in 


388  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

Iceland  in  1886,  and  of  the  many  thousands  of  miles 
I  have  traversed  in  that  fashion  since  then.  She 
has  accompanied  her  husband  on  his  rambles,  and 
a  big  moose  head  in  the  dining-room  fell  to  her 
rifle. 

Just  a  short  motor  trip  from  the  Thompson- 
Setons'  home  is  a  very  wonderful  place  called  Indian 
Harbor.  The  whole  of  Greenwich  is  famous  for 
its  beautiful  homes.  In  fact  it  shelters  many  mil- 
lionaires and  multi-millionaires  along  the  length 
of  its  shore  from  New  York  to  Boston.  Indian 
Harbor  —  which  was  built  by  Commodore  E.  C. 
Benedict,  the  banker  —  might  be  Amalfi,  and  as  it 
appeared  a  few  days  before  Christmas,  with  the  sun 
shining  upon  the  water,  Long  Island  in  the  dis- 
tance, and  its  beautiful  Italian  pergolas  and  the 
wonderful  colouring  of  the  clear  sky,  one  felt  it 
might  have  been  Italy  on  a  winter's  day,  instead  of 
Connecticut. 

Few  American  women  have  travelled  as  much 
about  their  own  country  as  the  writer.  Many 
of  them  have  never  been  outside  their  own  state. 
I  have  spent  days  and  nights  going  from  one  end 
of  the  United  States  to  another,  although  I  have 
not  been  farther  west  than  Chicago,  St.  Louis, 
Kansas,  or  El  Paso. 

What  contrasts  the  vast  territory  of  the  States 
presents.  Compare  the  concentrated,  overpacked 


PRAIRIE  PEEPS  389 

capsules  of  human  life  in  New  York  with  the  diluted 
medicine  draught  in  Texas,  where  the  population  is 
so  meagre  and  widely  dispersed  that  it  is  difficult 
to  find  a  trace  of  the  medicine  at  all.  One  hails 
with  joy  that  delightfully  interesting  old  pseudo- 
Spanish  town  San  Antonio.  Think  of  those  miles 
and  miles,  and  hundreds  of  miles  of  bleak,  barren 
lands  in  Texas  and  Arizona.  Sand,  sand,  nothing 
but  sand,  without  a  blade  of  grass  pretending  to 
grow  and  like  a  desert  waste,  never  a  tree  —  sel- 
dom a  shrub  —  only  cactus  here  and  there  for 
the  beasts.  Parts  of  the  Argentine  are  quite  as 
hideous,  but  there  the  land  will  grow  anything, 
and  yield  five  crops  a  year  of  alfalfa. 

There  are  still  millions  of  acres  of  undeveloped 
land --land  not  yet  homogeneously  settled;  but 
how  are  the  people  to  be  established  in  the  coun- 
try when  they  prefer  the  squalor  of  the  towns  ? 

Think  of  the  ugly  little  frame  houses  all  made  to 
one  pattern,  like  children's  Noah's  Arks,  and 
quite  as  weirdly  painted,  that  may  be  found  miles 
and  miles  apart.  Some  green,  with  great,  gaunt 
white-rimmed  eyes  or  windows  ;  some  with  death- 
like apertures  marked  out  in  red.  Tin  roof, 
wooden  roof,  some  balcony,  no  balcony  ;  all  young, 
raw,  square ;  some  cosy,  some  drear.  Such  are 
the  homes  often  to  be  seen  on  the  prairie,  —  no 
flowers,  no  gardens,  no  creepers  growing  up  those 
naked  walls,  just  hideous,  hideous,  hideous  —  in 


390  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

which  men,  women,  and  children  grind  out  their 
existence. 

That  wooden  buildings  are  allowed  in  towns  in 
the  promiscuous  way  they  are  is  surprising.  Ex- 
cept in  the  heart  of  the  city  any  sort  of  wooden 
shanty  seems  permissible,  and  yet  one  fire  can 
sweep  away  acres  of  these  Noah's  Ark  playhouses. 
Municipal  councils  appear  as  indifferent  to  the  pub- 
lic good  as  sleeping  car  managers  are  to  the  hy- 
gienic condition  of  travellers. 

One  reads  "  Destruction  of  City  by  Fire,"  and  in 
England  we  think  of  some  fine  city  like  Milan,  or 
Barcelona,  Hamburg,  or  Edinburgh,  being  swept 
away  in  a  few  hours ;  but  we  need  not  weep ;  it 
is  more  a  subject  for  rejoicing.  It  means  the  sweep- 
ing away  of  ugly  yellow,  green,  or  red,  wooden 
houses,  built  anyhow,  in  a  hurry,  and  tumbled 
out  on  the  world  in  the  same  kindly  fashion  that 
they  are  swept  off  again  by  flame. 

These  hideous  little  frame  towns  are  spread  all 
over  America.  Thirty  years  ago,  Denver  was  one 
of  them.  Now,  it  is  a  fine  city.  Although  the 
big  cities  begin  to  build  stone  houses,  the  small 
towns  are  all  "prairie  ",  and  on  prairie  nothing  else 
but  a  wooden  homestead  is  known. 

Everyone  rises  at  daybreak  and  goes  to  bed  when 
it  is  dark,  to  save  oil. 
The  men  are  away  in  the  saddle  all  day.     It 


From  The  New  New  York. 

A  DOWNTOWN  CANON  IN  NEW  YORK 
Drawn  by  Joseph  Pennell. 


PRAIRIE  PEEPS  391 

sounds  so  lovely,  but  ten  or  twelve  hours  of  saddle 
work  is  mighty  monotonous,  and  old  ranch  horses 
are  not  exciting.  I've  done  it  all  myself,  and 
galloped  across  the  open  prairies  after  the  wild 
bulls  when  they  were  being  caught  for  the  ring. 

They  "  round  up  cattle,"  count  them  again  and 
again,  brand  them  every  year,  make  and  mend 
corrals  incessantly,  go  to  market  to  buy  or  sell,  and 
shoot  something  for  the  pot  when  chance  offers. 
Anyway,  the  men  have  some  diversion,  some 
change  of  scene  in  the  monotony  of  prairie  life, 
even  if  they  return  home  at  dusk,  bodily  ex- 
hausted from  the  open  air  in  this  wild,  healthy, 
unsettled,  unintellectual  ranch  life. 

Far-sighted  people  don't  look  for  trouble. 

But  what  of  the  women  ?  My  heart  aches  when 
I  think  of  the  women  I  have  seen  tens  of  miles  from 
anywhere  —  gently  born,  daintily  reared,  strong, 
beautiful  young  American  and  English  women, 
who  have  left  their  paternal  homes,  in  which  they 
have  been  surrounded  by  all  the  wealth  and  re- 
finement of  life,  young  girls  who  have  gone  off 
drawn  by  the  glamour  of  love  to  drag  out  this  weary 
lonesome  life,  where  they  become  nothing  but 
charwomen.  The  post  comes  once  a  week  or  less. 
Intellectual  interest  does  not  exist.  Neighbours 
are  seldom  seen.  Roads  there  are  none,  although 
the  advent  of  motor-cars  has  brought  people 
somewhat  more  together  than  formerly ;  but  it  is 


392  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

a  drear,  lonesome  life  for  a  gentlewoman,  and  one 
that  no  man  should  lightly  ask  her  to  undertake. 

Glorious  sunsets,  an  occasional  mirage,  the  ever- 
lasting croak  of  the  grasshopper,  and  the  weird 
wild  cry  of  the  coyote  at  night,  are  the  music  in 
the  silence  of  this  life. 

The  picturesque  cowboy  is  no  more,  except  in 
Mexico ;  the  danger  to  life  has  practically  passed, 
adventures  seldom  occur,  and  only  dull  monotony 
remains  on  the  ranch,  where  the  life  of  the  prairie 
makes  some  characters  and  mars  others.  It  is 
always  a  toss-up. 

A  ranch  near  a  town  is  different ;  but  few  ranches 
are  near  towns,  and  then  the  loneliness  and  isola- 
tion for  the  woman  is  well-nigh  intolerable.  To 
read,  continue  her  music  or  her  singing,  to  keep 
her  home  even  clean  after  the  ravages  of  a  dust- 
storm,  all  require  heroic  effort,  where  the  daily 
routine  of  washing  and  mending,  or  cooking  and 
scrubbing,  wears  her  out  bodily  before  the  evening 
arrives.  Only  the  strongest  should  attempt  it ; 
only  a  philosopher  can  endure  it  in  contentment. 

The  women  on  the  ranches  are  often  real  heroines. 
They  strive  to  make  the  home  civilised,  they  en- 
deavour to  keep  it  pretty  and  refined  against  enor- 
mous odds.  And  the  ranches  without  a  woman 
soon  show  to  what  depths  of  ruffianism  men  can 
descend  in  appearance  —  though  not  in  heart  — 
if  there  is  no  woman  to  keep  them  up  to  the  mark. 


PRAIRIE  PEEPS  393 

Ranch  life  is  for  young  blood,  for  the  youth  with- 
out ambition,  and  the  wild  young  animal.  It  is 
not  for  a  cultured  woman.  She  pines  away  in  the 
cage,  or  throws  her  culture  to  the  winds,  and  be- 
comes "one  of  them." 

I  remember  a  girl  and  three  brothers.  They  had 
come  out  [from  a  Lincolnshire  parsonage ;  first, 
two  brothers,  and  later  the  sister,  and  the  youngest 
brother,  when  the  home  was  dismantled. 

"I  do  all  I  can,"  she  said  ;  "I  try  to  keep  up  my 
music,  and  in  return  I  insist  that  one  night  a  week 
we  shall  all  dress  for  dinner,  and  have  a  musical 
evening.  I  won't  let  the  boys  forget  to  be  gentle- 
men, but  they  are  so  tired  —  we  are  all  so  tired,  we 
can't  do  it  often.  But  at  Christmas  and  on  birth- 
days, and  on  Sunday  nights,  we  all  dress  up  smart, 
and  have  a  little  social  evening ;  then  whenever  a 
friend  is  handy  we  ask  him  to  join  us.  It  is  an 
effort,"  she  continued,  "but  it  is  worth  it." 

Slack  ways  which  some  men  think  a  joke,  some 
women  think  an  insult.  Courtesy  in  a  man  is  a 
great  gift. 

I  said  men  become  uncouth.  They  don't  shave 
-  why  should  they  ?  They  let  their  hair  grow  long ; 
why  not  ?  there  is  no  one  to  cut  it.  They  cease 
to  wear  linen  collars,  because  there  is  nobody  to 
wash  or  iron  them.  Besides,  they  wear  out  quickly 
and  there  is  no  shop  from  which  they  can  replace 
them.  College  men  lead  these  lives.  They  become 


394  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

wild  men  of  the  woods  to  look  upon,  and  some  for 
amusement  merely  go  to  the  nearest  town  to  spend 
their  time  in  the  saloons,  and  let  themselves  go  - 
but  there  are  others,  God  bless  them,  who  become 
more  and  more  idealistic,  more  chivalrous,  more 
manly,  and  when  they  meet  a  woman,  treat  her  as 
a  queen.  I  have  met  such  men  ;  their  hearts  ache, 
but  they  nurse  their  ideals.  To  such  men,  such  re- 
fined natures,  ranch  life  is  hell.  They  are  veritable 
heroes,  for  they  cling  to  all  that  is  best.  It  is  a 
hard  life,  with  poor  pay,  and  they  just  rot  away  and 
die. 

The  far-away  sound  of  the  engine  and  the  bell, 
as  the  locomotive  draws  her  heavy  load  of  Pullman 
cars  or  freight  waggons  across  the  desert,  is  the  only 
sound  of  life,  as  the  two  trains  a  day  pass  over  the 
prairie. 

Ranch  life  is  romantic  in  books  :  but  it  so  often 
leads  to  nothing  save  emptiness  of  pocket  and  lone- 
liness of  soul. 

It  is  really  a  necessity  that  houses  should  be  built 
of  wood  on  the  prairie,  because  bricks  or  concrete 
are  unprocurable  though  wood  was  once  cheap. 
Yes,  was  once;  yes,  once,  hence  wooden  fences  and 
wooden  houses,  but  the  forests  have  been  cut  down, 
and  nothing  has  been  planted  instead,  so  wire 
fencing  is  employed  to-day.  Frame  houses  them- 
selves have  become  more  expensive,  and  every  form 
of  wooden  decoration  and  porch  is  therefore  tabooed. 


PRAIRIE  PEEPS  395 

Men  cut  the  trees  down  ruthlessly.  Someone  said 
they  used  four  hundred  and  fifty  feet  of  lum- 
ber a  year  per  inhabitant  in  the  United  States,  as 
against  sixty  feet  in  Europe.  As  they  are  tearing 
down  at  this  pace,  and  four  fifths  of  the  timber  in 
the  States  is  in  private  hands,  it  is  about  time  for 
the  Government  to  intervene,  and  see  that  the 
rainfall  and  climate  of  the  country  is  properly 
protected  through  its  timber.  In  Switzerland  and 
France  the  handling  of  private  forest  lands  is  pro- 
tected by  the  State,  so  that  the  individual  may  not 
injure  the  public  welfare.  America  will  have  to  do 
the  same.  Wake  up,  Brother  Jonathan ;  you  are 
napping  again,  and  letting  single  individuals  go 
to  sleep  at  your  expense. 

It  is  rather  amusing  to  hear  the  Americans  talk 
about  their  woods  and  forests.  As  a  rule,  these 
"forests"  do  not  contain  trees  in  our  sense  of  the 
word,  but  merely  saplings.  We  should  not  even 
call  them  woods.  They  are  just  wild  plantations, 
the  average  trees  of  these  forests  being,  perhaps,  a 
foot  in  circumference,  except,  of  course,  in  the 
wondrous  Yellowstone  Park  or  such  districts. 
Another  term  which  the  Britisher  might  con- 
sider misapplied  is  "hunting  the  duck  and  shooting 
the  fox."  When  a  man  goes  out  duck  shooting, 
he  calls  it  hunting,  and  strange  as  it  may  appear, 
the  fox  is  not  hunted  or  chased  in  America,  except 
in  Virginia,  but  battalions  of  people  sally  forth 


396  AMERICA  AS   I   SAW  IT 

with  a  certain  number  of  dogs,  each  gun  being 
stationed  at  some  particular  point,  and  as  the  dogs 
chase  the  fox  before  them,  the  man  shoots  it  with 
the  gun.  So  they  call  it  "shooting  the  fox,  and 
hunting  the  duck". 

"I  am  going  hunting,"  is  a  remark  one  con- 
stantly hears'm  England  ;  it  conveys  the  impression 
of  Monsieur  Reynard  and  a  pack  of  hounds.  But 
"I  am  going  hunting,"  means  nothing  of  the  kind 
in  America.  It  means  shooting  with  a  gun,  or,  as 
the  Americans  call  it,  "a  hunting  gun".  They 
take  a  hunting  dog  with  them,  not  a  pointer  or  a 
setter,  and  apparently  the  most  usual  way  of  en- 
joying the  sport  is  to  join  a  "Hunting  and  Fishing 
Club ",  which  raises  pheasants  for  its  members, 
ensuring  to  each  so  many  days'  sport.  It 
is  not  uncommon  to  pass  posts  on  which  are  the 
words,  "Hunting  forbidden"  (meaning  shooting), 
with  the  same  notice  written  below  in  Italian, 
"  Evietate  cacciare"  These  Italian  words  indicate 
the  enormous  influx  of  those  people  into  the  coun- 
try, showing  that  they  are  sufficiently  numerous  to 
necessitate  warnings  in  their  native  lingo.  On  the 
electric  railways  similar  notices  may  also  be  found 
in  Italian  not  to  touch  the  "live"  rail.  Travelling 
through  the  country  in  America,  where  the  dis- 
tances are  so  vast,  is  often  like  travelling  in  a 
wilderness.  Travelling  in  Britain,  where  the  dis- 
tances are  so  small,  is  like  one  continuous  garden. 


PRAIRIE  PEEPS  397 

Across  the  Atlantic  one  misses  the  parks  and 
country-seats  ;  one  misses  those  dear  little  thatched 
cottages,  alas,  so  rapidly  disappearing  from  our 
midst,  just  as  the  gamekeeper's  velveteen  jacket 
has  already  vanished. 

Almost  every  inch  of  England,  Germany,  France, 
and  Austria  is  cultivated.  Tens  of  thousands  of 
miles  in  America  are  uncultivated.  The  soil  would 
not  yield  anything.  Cattle  can  barely  keep  alive 
upon  it,  and  four  or  five  acres  of  grass  are  often 
required  for  each  beast. 

Change  is  recreation,  and  it  is  a  change  and  a 
recreation  to  leave  the  overstocked,  overculti- 
vated  lands  of  Europe,  for  the  understocked,  under- 
cultivated  prairies  of  the  Western  States.  How 
many  good  people  there  are  in  the  world,  and  how 
few  interesting  ones,  is  a  reflection  driven  home 
with  the  force  of  a  sledge-hammer,  in  the  wilds. 
Goodness  is  so  often  negative.  One  can  behave 
disgracefully,  too,  in  a  negative  way,  by  not  doing 
or  saying  the  right  thing  at  the  right  moment. 

Is  there  any  city  anywhere  that  decreases  in  size  ? 

Wherever  one  goes  in  Europe,  Asia,  Africa,  or 
America,  every  township  seems  to  have  grown 
enormously  in  ten  years.  All  these  new  people  are 
not  born  there  ;  many  of  them  have  come  from  the 
land.  The  land  itself  must  be  made  more  attrac- 
tive, it  must  render  better  payment  eventually,  or 


398  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

it  will  only  be  inhabited  by  the  weak-brained, 
strong-bodied,  animal  man  and  woman,  while  the 
towns  will  increasingly  call  for  the  brighter  minds, 
the  intellectual  pushers,  who  gradually  deteriorate 
and  fall  out  in  the  struggle  for  bread,  that  goes 
on  unceasingly  in  the  life  of  a  vast  city.  Prac- 
tically all  cities  grow.  We,  who  live  in  any 
particular  town,  think  it  grows  faster,  and  better, 
and  greater  than  any  other  city  all  the  world  over. 
Nothing  is  so  big  that  some  place  is  not  bigger  in 
some  way  or  other.  Each  land,  each  city,  each 
nation,  has  its  good  and  its  bad.  The  great  thing 
is  to  learn  toleration,  and  acquire  the  art  of  gentle 
comparison  and  emulation. 

Talking  of  cities,  St.  Louis  wafts  two  recollections 
to  my  mind  :  a  blizzard  and  an  exhibition. 

An  American  blizzard  once  experienced  will  never 
be  forgotten.  The  wind  was  so  awful,  the  snow 
was  so  blinding,  the  hurly-burly  was  so  hideous, 
that  it  was  almost  impossible  to  enter  the  hotel 
through  double  sets  of  doors.  A  great  strong  por- 
ter hauled  me  from  the  cab,  and  holding  me  by  the 
arm,  ran  me  into  the  hostelry. 

American  weather  is  certainly  extreme.  It  is 
extremely  beautiful,  clear,  bright,  invigorating ; 
or  it  is  extremely  bad,  and  blizzards  and  rains,  as 
the  Irishman  would  say,  "like  the  very  devil". 

Dare  it  be  acknowledged  that  an  Englishwoman 
passed  through  St.  Louis  when  the  Exhibition  was 


PRAIRIE  PEEPS  399 

in  full  fling,  and  did  not  get  out  of  her  car  to  look  at 
it  ?  One  exhibition  is  much  the  same  as  another, 
and  having  seen  two  or  three  in  Paris  and  London, 
being  also  alone,  on  a  six  days  and  six  nights  con- 
tinuous travel  from  Chicago  to  Mexico,  I  was  con- 
tent to  look  at  the  buildings  from  the  train  in  the 
early  morning  light,  and  I  probably  have  the  hon- 
our of  being  the  only  lunatic  who  passed  through 
the  "greatest  Exhibition  in  the  World,"  -for,  of 
course,  being  in  America,  it  must  have  been  the 
greatest,  —  and  did  not  descend  from  her  car. 
When  I  returned,  St.  Louis  treated  me  to  a  bliz- 
zard as  a  punishment. 

Kansas  City  was  kinder.  The  sun  shone,  and 
Kansas  City  is  going  fast  ahead. 

In  1900,  Houston,  Texas,  was  an  awful  spot,  but 
•even  such  an  uninviting  place  as  Houston  is  now 
a  thriving  inland  cotton  port ;  just  as  Galveston 
is  to-day  shipping  hundreds  of  thousands  of  bales 
of  cotton  yearly,  for  Galveston  rebuilt  its  hideous 
wooden  houses,  and  is  flourishing  again. 

The  Mississippi  valley  is  a  wonderful  place.  I 
remember  that  great  wide  river  with  its  curious 
boats  laden  with  cotton,  and  the  darkies  handling 
the  bales.  So  few  of  us  realise  that  the  Mississippi 
River  is  navigable  for  two  thousand  five  hundred 
miles,  and  that  its  tributaries  drain  over  forty  per 
cent  of  the  United  States,  while  the  waters  from 
thirty  states  are  pouring  into  its  lower  reaches. 


400  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

It  is  this  vastness  of  America  that  is  so  amazing, 
this  great  size,  this  great  wealth  of  water  power  and 
water  transport,  that  impress  the  stranger.  We 
appreciate  it  all  until  we  are  told  "it  is  the  biggest 
in  the  world  ". 

Painting  the  lily  spoils  the  flower. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
WONDERFUL  WASHINGTON 

OF  course  the  United  States,  being  "the  greatest 
place  on  God's  earth",  and  its  President,  "the 
greatest  power  in  the  world  ",  according  to  the  idea 
of  most  Americans,  it  would  be  mighty  presump- 
tuous to  suggest  that  so  large  a  country  is  badly 
handicapped  by  such  a  short  term  of  office. 

It  appears  to  the  "foreigner"  that  for  the  first 
year  the  new  President  is  busy  giving  office  to  his 
numerous  friends  and  followers,  and  generally  find- 
ing his  way  about.  The  second  and  third  years  he 
begins  to  stand  on  his  own  feet,  so  to  speak,  and 
the  fourth  year  he  spends  his  time  in  struggling 
hard  to  keep  on  them.  So  that  at  the  end  of  four 
years,  when  he  is  of  the  most  value  to  his  country, 
he  has  to  go.  Therefore,  only  about  half  the  time 
of  his  office  really  counts.  From  Canada  to  the 
Gulf  of  Mexico,  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific, 
the  country  is  upheaved  every  four  years.  There 
is  a  sort  of  "  general  post  "  ;  even  Judges  —  except 
those  splendid  men  in  the  United  States  Supreme 
Court  —  go  out  of  office.  Is  this  unrest,  this  in- 
stability, good  for  any  land  ;  does  it  lead  to  honesty 
or  discourage  place  seekers  ? 

2D  401 


402  AMERICA  AS   I   SAW  IT 

The  entire  regime,  even  the  servants  at  the 
White  House,  are  changed.  Black  domestics  suc- 
ceed white  domestics,  and  even  Mrs.  President 
has  to  put  her  house  in  order,  instead  of  its  being 
kept  going  like  a  large,  well-organised  hotel  in 
which  Mr.  and  Mrs.  President  become  the  principal 
guests  for  the  short  term  of  four  years. 

No,  out  go  the  servants,  out  goes  the  organisa- 
tion ;  everything  must  be  new,  everything  strange  ; 
every  experiment  has  to  be  gone  through  over  again 
both  by  the  head  of  the  administration  and  his 
spouse. 

For  instance,  the  Roosevelts  had  white  servants. 
The  Tafts  had  black  ones,  and  so  on. 

A  presidentship  of  seven  years'  duration  might 
promote  more  restfulness  and  would  probably 
give  better  results ;  at  least,  so  thinks  an  alien. 

The  Lord  Mayor  of  London  steps  into  a  ready- 
made  establishment.  The  servants  (except  his 
own  private  ones)  belong  to  the  Mansion  House 
where  plate,  linen,  silver,  secretaries,  and  regula- 
tions are  all  ready  waiting ;  so  neither  the  Lord 
Mayor  nor  the  Lady  Mayoress  has  to  bother  with 
such  details. 

Not  so  at  the  White  House  ;  there  all  is  change, 
everlasting  change  and  experiment. 

Why  do  people  abuse  that  White  House  ? 

The  White  House,  so  often  ridiculed,  is  really  a 
very  charming  place  ;  or  rather  it  appears  even  more 


WONDERFUL  WASHINGTON 


4°3 


I 


THE-RE.  ARE  NO 
COW  BOX  S 


THERE  IS  NO  POLICE  Pj 

TYRANNY  _  r1 


THE^EARE    HARDLV   ANY   DEATHS 
ON    TTHt    RX3TBAL-L.  FlEl-O 


THERE  ARE  NOT  ENOUGH 
PEOPLE.  HURT  AT  ,5^1 


Crattfw  by  W.  K.  Hasdden.    Reproduced  by  permission  of  the  London  Dally  Mirror. 
WHY  AMERICANS  FIND  LONDON  DULL 


404  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

charming  than  it  is  because  it  is  set  back  in  a 
small  park,  and  the  double  carriage  drive  and 
the  trees  show  off  its  Greek  stone  pillars  to  advan- 
tage. It  has  a  frontage  about  one  third  of  that  of 
Buckingham  Palace,  but  is  without  the  courtyards 
at  the  back ;  and  it  is  just  the  nice  large  com- 
fortable handsome  house  of  a  private  gentleman. 
It  is  not  regal,  although  the  two  tall  darky  butlers, 
who  fling  back  the  doors,  give  an  air  of  regality 
to  the  scene  ;  and  the  suites  of  rooms  are  imposing 
enough  when  Mrs.  President  dispenses  tea  before  a 
large  open  log-fire. 

Portraits  of  former  Presidents  by  indifferent 
artists  do  not  add  aesthetically  to  the  rooms, 
though  they  are,  no  doubt,  of  great  interest  to  the 
people. 

The  Lord  Mayor  of  London  and  the  President  of 
Mexico  receive  about  the  same  income,  viz.  ten 
thousand  pounds  ($50,000)  a  year.  The  President 
of  the  United  States  now  receives  nearly  double 
that  sum.  Even  this  is  not  a  fortune  to  work  on, 
as  they  are  often  poor  men,  and  they  have  many 
calls  on  their  money,  while  public  entertaining 
swallows  much  of  the  income. 

General  Diaz  lived  at  his  simple  castle  on  the 
rock  of  Chapultepec,  or  his  private  home  at  Cadena 
Street,  like  a  dignified  citizen.  He  had  a  guard  of 
soldiers,  it  is  true,  and  aides-de-camp,  but  his  life 
was  unobtrusive,  and  he  often  walked  or  rode 


WONDERFUL  WASHINGTON  405 

alone  in  the  streets.  After  thirty-five  years  of 
office,  he  left  his  country  a  very  poor  man. 

The  Lord  Mayor  of  London  has  no  soldier  guard, 
but  he  also  is  a  private  individual,  and  the  fine  old 
Mansion  House  —  run  for  him  while  he  controls 
our  City  limits  —  he  tenants  for  a  year  only. 

The  poor  President  of  the  United  States  of 
America  is  head  of  nearly  a  hundred  millions  of 
people,  and  in  such  a  short  spell  of  office,  he 
never  gets  time  to  settle  down.  His  home  is  quite 
in  keeping  with  his  means,  and  now  that  it  is  all 
done  up  in  fine  Georgian  style  inside,  it  is  a  very 
charming  home,  too.  The  rooms  display  good 
taste,  dignity,  and  space.  Whoever  re-decorated 
them  is  certainly  to  be  congratulated  on  having 
banished  those  awful  yellow  brocades  of  Mr. 
Roosevelt's  day. 

I  like  the  White  House  both  inside  and  out. 

Several  attempts  have  been  made  to  turn  this 
Presidential  Residence  into  a  sort  of  Royal  Palace  ; 
and  women  have  been  known  to  curtsey  to  the 
President  as  though  he  were  Royalty.  Invita- 
tions from  the  White  House  are  seldom  refused, 
being  considered  in  the  light  of  a  royal  command  ; 
but  all  this  is  rather  absurd  in  a  Republic,  which 
should  be  Republican  in  this  respect  above  all 
things.  After  a  very  pleasant  chat  with  two  suc- 
cessive Presidents,  I  cannot  imagine  anybody  less 
likely  to  desire  a  woman's  curtsey.  Both  were 


406  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

delightfully  hearty,  frank,  impetuous,  enthusiastic 
men,  to  whom  conventionality  must  have  been  a 
bore  almost  beyond  endurance,  and  yet  there  are 
those  in  Washington  who  want  to  tie  up  Society  in 
all  the  red  tape  of  Court  life. 

Society  in  Washington  is  delightful ;  but  it  is 
very  rigid,  although  it  is  sometimes  asked  to 
accept  some  strange  folk  among  the  diplomatic 
circles. 

It  is  difficult  to  draw  comparisons  between 
Society  in  England  and  America.  The  best  is 
always  the  best  in  every  land,  and  so  much  like 
its  neighbour,  that  there  is  little  to  choose  between 
either. 

Personally  I  had  a  lovely  time,  thanks  to  the 
kindness  of  the  President  and  Mrs.  Taft,  Ex- 
President  Roosevelt,  the  British  Ambassador  and 
Mrs.  Bryce,  the  Attorney-General  and  Mrs.  Wicker- 
sham,  the  Speaker  and  Mrs.  Champ  Clark,  Major 
and  Mrs.  Sydney  Cloman,  Captain  and  Mrs.  Gib- 
bons (Annapolis),  Captain  and  Mrs.  Simpson,  Hon. 
John  Barrett,  Hon.  Charles  and  Mrs.  Fairbanks,  the 
late  Hon.  John  and  Mrs.  Hay,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Allerton 
Cushman,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Arthur  Willert  (of  the 
London  Times),  Major  Leonard,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Harold  Walker,  Mrs.  Ely,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Arsene  Pujo, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Arthur  Carter,  Professor  Willis  Moore, 
Mr.  John  Griffiths  the  brilliant  American  Consul- 
General  in  London  and  his  wife,  Senor  Algarra, 


WONDERFUL  WASHINGTON  407 

Mr.  Maurice  Low,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  George  Becker, 
Madame  O'Kabe. 

The  best  Society  in  America  is  to  be  found  in 
Washington,  the  most  cosmopolitan  and  beautiful 
city  in  the  States.  Of  course,  Boston  claims  to  be 
the  intellectual  centre,  just  as  Washington  aspires 
to  harbour  the  elite  of  Society.  It  is  a  social  world 
—  a  world  literally ;  for  every  nationality  is  rep- 
resented among  the  Embassies,  and  thus  it  ceases 
to  be  American,  and  is  thoroughly  cosmopolitan. 
There  are  no  great  business  concerns,  there  is  no 
gambling  as  in  Wall  Street  or  in  the  Pit ;  nearly 
everyone  living  there  has  a  government  salary  or 
belongs  to  a  profession.  There  is  great  wealth, 
too,  because  the  western  millionaires  have  bought 
or  built  vast  homes  in  Washington,  and  go  there 
for  the  season.  Many  of  them  have  bought  them- 
selves into  Congress,  too ;  for  politics  in  America 
are  not  all  they  should  be  as  regards  bribery  and 
corruption. 

Speaking  roughly,  Washington  Society  is  dis- 
tinctly political.  It  has  not  any  great  salon,  nor 
any  woman  who  is  a  leader,  although  nearly 
all  the  women  there  are  interested  in  politics ; 
and  it  is  in  every  way  a  political  centre,  just  as 
Boston  is  unmistakably  literary.  Then  again 
New  York  and  Chicago  are  distinctly  business 
strongholds.  Both  have  a  flavouring  of  art  and 
literature  which  has  progressed  rapidly  within  the 


4o8  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

last  few  years,   but  business   predominates,   and 
politics  are  in  the  background. 

It  seems  so  strange  that  no  American  woman  has 
so  far  been  able  to  form  a  salon.  In  the  seven- 
teenth and  eighteenth  centuries,  in  England  and 
France,  salons  were  at  their  height.  In  the  nine- 
teenth century  they  lingered  on  in  England, 
though  in  France  they  fell  with  the  Empire. 
In  London,  in  Edinburgh,  in  Dublin,  and  some 
smaller  towns  there  are  women  to-day  who  by 
sheer  individuality  attract  people  to  their  homes. 
It  is  easy  enough  for  the  rich  to  open  a  restau- 
rant ;  but  it  requires  less  food  and  more  brains  to 
maintain  a  salon.  There  are  women  in  London - 
great  political  leaders  —  who  entertain  lavishly, 
and  there  are  women  with  small  homes  where  every- 
body who  is  anybody  can  be  met. 

The  moment  anyone  who  is  no  one  frequents  a 
house,  someone  who  is  someone  ceases  to  go. 

Over  the  tea  cups,  diplomats,  authors,  painters, 
actors,  men  and  women  of  brains,  can  be  found  in 
those  drawing-rooms.  Large  subjects  are  dis- 
cussed in  small  salons.  England  and  Germany  are 
producing  the  greatest  thinkers  of  the  day,  but  in 
the  matter  of  salons  Germany  is  far  behind,  be- 
cause her  women  are  not  yet  as  advanced  as  the 
women  of  England  or  America. 

America  ought  to  have  her  salons;  but  she  has 
not.  Why  ? 


WONDERFUL  WASHINGTON  409 

A  smiling  welcome  from  a  good  hostess,  useful 
introductions  between  suitable  people,  a  little 
trouble  and  much  tact,  and  the  thing  is  done,  pro- 
vided the  men  cooperate.  In  America,  till  now, 
the  men  have  failed  to  do  so. 

The  bulk  of  the  people,  the  mass,  take  no  in- 
terest whatever  in  politics.  They  are  far,  far  less 
concerned  in  them  than  Europeans,  and  people 
who  are  keen,  are  keen  over  a  dozen  different  things. 
They  ran  three  distinct  candidates  for  the  Presi- 
dency in  1912,  and  several  hundreds  of  under-men 
for  subordinate  posts.  Everyone  seemed  to  have 
a  different  opinion  on  every  subject,  and  on  every 
individual.  There  is  certainly  little  concentration 
and  much  indifference. 

The  British  workingman  is  far  more  alive  to  the 
government  of  his  country  and  himself  than  the 
American. 

There  is  a  curious  resemblance  between  Mr. 
Taft  of  the  Republican  platform  and  Mr.  Roose- 
velt of  the  Progressive  one.  Both  men  have  a  sense 
of  humour  in  their  speeches,  they  have  twinkling 
eyes,  prominent  noses,  double  chins,  broad  fore- 
heads, and  are  of  heavy  bulk  ;  in  fact,  the  physical 
resemblance  between  these  two  men  is  quite  strik- 
ing. Whether  the  atmosphere  of  the  White  House 
influences  its  Presidents  the  writer  knows  not,  but 
they  both  have  the  same  geniality,  the  same  cheer- 


410  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

fulness,  the  same  jolly,  hail-fellow-well-met  manner 
that  is  so  pleasing  to  the  stranger. 

They  are  neither  of  them  orators,  but  both  are 
forceful  speakers.  They  take  their  audience  into 
their  confidence  and  proceed  to  have  a  little 
friendly  cheerful  chat.  Their  minds  are  quick  and 
their  words  ready.  They  both  speak  with  broad 
American  accents,  and  again  we  must  repeat  that 
in  method,  style,  and  looks,  on  the  platform  there 
is  a  strange  likeness  between  these  two  men  who 
were  once  such  friends,  and  later  such  bitter  en- 
emies. 

It  is  mighty  hard  to  climb  the  little  stool  of 
repentance. 

Speaking  of  Roosevelt,  a  man  once  said  to 
me  :- 

"He  is  a  demigod  with  only  one  idea,  and  that 
one  idea  is  himself.  He  is  wrapped  in  egoism,  and 
that  egoism  is  Roosevelt.  He  is  undoubtedly  a 
humanitarian,  but  his  ideals  are  lost  in  the  Ego 
which  blinds  him.  He  is  the  greatest  psychological 
study  of  the  age.  He  was  the  autocrat  of  the 
White  House,  and  its  demigod.  He  may  come 
up  again  for  election  with  only  his  own  individ- 
uality and  personality  for  his  party.  The  Pro- 
gressive party  is  merely  another  spelling  for  the 
word  'Roosevelt." 

Another  time  I  asked  a  darky  what  he  thought 
of  Mr.  Roosevelt.  "I  never  knew  any  man  make 


WONDERFUL  WASHINGTON  411 

so  many  soap-suds  and  do  so  little  washing/'  was 
his  reply. 

"Roosevelt  is  dangerous  because  Roosevelt  is 
able,"  said  a  third. 

Another  man  called  him  "the  boy  President, 
because  he  is  so  irresponsible,  ingenuous,  and  has 
the  enthusiasm  of  youth.  He  has  never  probably 
earned  a  dollar  in  his  life,  and,  it  is  said,  was  the  first 
President  from  Washington  onwards,  who  was  not 
a  man  of  affairs." 

"Roosevelt  has  awakened  every  conscience  in 
the  United  States  except  his  own,"  said  a  woman. 

Everyone  had  something  to  say  about  him  in 
1912;  and  he  certainly  was  deeply  beloved  by 
many  and  cordially  hated  by  some. 

If  the  conversation  could  evade  blood  pressure,  it 
invariably  turned  to  Mr.  Roosevelt. 

"Wilson,  of  course,  is  a  well-equipped  scholar," 
some  one  remarked,  "but  he  must  remember  our 
President  is  only  one  of  a  group.  The  Cabinet 
settles  the  policy  of  the  party,  and  whether  Mr. 
Wilson's  Cabinet  will  uphold  all  Mr.  Wilson's  ideas 
remains  to  be  seen." 

Philosophical  politics  are  extinguished  by  De- 
mocracy. 

And  what  shall  a  stranger  say  of  the  latest  ex- 
periment in  Presidents  ? 

Woodrow  Wilson  is  an  educator,  scholar,  thinker, 
historian,  a  student  of  man  and  of  man's  living 


412  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

conditions.  At  Princeton  University  he  was  a 
leader  and  director  of  college  boys.  Will  he  be 
able  to  lead  and  direct  the  grown-up  boys  of 
America  ? 

It  was  Whittier,  was  it  not,  who  wrote  "that 
men  are  only  grown-up  boys." 

It  is  interesting  to  note  that  Woodrow  Wilson 
was  the  first  man  to  be  made  President  of  the 
United  States,  who,  up  to  the  moment  of  his  inau- 
guration, was  universally  known  and  referred  to  as 
"Doctor,"  this  title  being  in  recognition  of  his 
scholarly  attainments.  This  in  itself  was  a  unique 
and  eloquent  circumstance,  flattering  to  the 
country. 

It  is  indicative  of  a  desire  on  the  part  of  the  United 
States  to  select  as  their  chief  magistrate,  a  man  not 
only  sound  of  character,  clever  of  purpose,  and  of 
resolute  courage,  but  signally  known  for  his  mental 
attainments  and  culture,  in  striking  contrast  to 
past  presidential  selections  from  soldiers,  lawyers, 
and  politicians.  All  Europe  applauded,  and  regard- 
less of  the  policies  or  the  politics  of  the  man 
chosen,  congratulated  the  States  on  the  type  of  man 
now  elected  to  such  high  office.  It  would  seem  as 
though  certain  high  —  perhaps  new  —  standards  of 
presidential  qualifications  had  been  set,  and  that 
in  the  selection  of  Dr.  Wilson  for  the  office  these 
standards  have  been  fully  met. 

Honest,  strong  in  spirit  and  mentality,  he  is 


WONDERFUL  WASHINGTON  413 

without  the  practical  experience  of  a  statesman. 
True,  but  will  that  prove  a  disadvantage  ?  The 
President  of  to-day,  by  title  "doctor,"  is  expected 
to  decide  upon  the  exact  nature  of  national  dis- 
orders, ascertain  the  proper  treatment,  or  opera- 
tion, necessary  to  bring  about  the  cure,  and  finally 
to  put  into  effect  the  treatment  or  operation 
required.  This  is  the  Herculean  task  which 
confronts  the  new,  "scholar  President." 

All  doctors  like  to  prescribe,  and  with  his  splen- 
did preparation,  courage,  newly  acquired  power, 
and  the  pressure  of  the  Democratic  party  with  its 
demands  and  howls  for  change  and  reform,  will  he 
be  able  to  resist  the  temptation  to  try  and  set 
things  right  too  quickly  by  special  treatment  ? 
Or  will  he  be  wise  enough,  strong  enough,  big 
enough,  to  realise  that  he  must  work  through  the 
people,  all  the  people,  big  and  little,  rich  and  poor, 
powerful  or  weak,  rather  than  by  means  of  drastic 
legislation,  in  order  to  effect  a  substantial  and  last- 
ing improvement  in  the  existing  national  evils  of 
to-day. 

Dr.  Woodrow  Wilson  made  a  wonderful  appeal 
to  business  men  after  his  election,  and  before  tak- 
ing up  office.  He  asked  for  their  cooperation  and 
honest  counsel.  He  spoke  the  words  of  a  statesman 
pleading  for  justice,  and  asking  for  assistance  — 
they  were  not  the  words  of  a  demagogue. 

"We  must  see  to  it  that  the  business  of  the 


4H  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

United  States  is  set  absolutely  free  of  every  feature 
of  monopoly." 

Again  he  said  :  "Life  is  a  little  thing.  Life  lasts 
only  a  little  while,  and  if  it  goes  out  lighted  by  the 
torch  of  glory,  it  is  better  than  if  it  had  lasted  upon 
a  dull  level  a  thousand  years." 

In  that  speech  made  in  Chicago  in  January,  1913, 
on  business,  President-Elect  Wilson  appealed 
directly  to  the  managers  of  big  business  interests 
for  their  support  in  the  work  of  the  nation  which  he 
was  so  soon  to  undertake.  This  was  gratifying 
and  leads  one  to  believe  that,  in  spite  of  the  great 
power  placed  in  his  hands,  the  tremendous  pressure 
of  his  party,  and  the  temptation  to  effect  an  im- 
mediate cure,  the  good  "  Doctor"  will  be  sagacious 
enough  to  move  slowly  and  with  caution,  enlisting 
the  sympathy  and  assistance  of  the  "big  interests" 
as  well  as  the  small,  with  the  probability  of  arriving 
at  his  goal.  May  his  hard  hits  at  big  corporations 
awaken  individualism  and  enterprise  again.  The 
tariffs  enable  monopolists  to  organise,  and  it  is  the 
tariff  he  singles  out  for  attack. 

May  good  fortune  go  with  him. 

Next  to  Dr.  Woodrow  Wilson  comes  William 
Jennings  Bryan,  now  Secretary  of  State. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  Bryan  is  strong  and 
forceful.  I  was  very  much  struck  by  the  fact 
when  I  heard  him  speak  in  Madison  Square,  where 


WONDERFUL  WASHINGTON  415 

he  walked  from  one  platform  to  another  to  deliver 
his  addresses  to  the  greatest  possible  number  of 
people.  But  it  was  a  curious  thingfor  a  Secretary  of 
State  to  make  his  first  speech  to  show  how  another 
country — viz.  England  —  should  govern  Ireland. 

What  a  contrast ! 

One  day  to  see  all  the  pageant  and  display  of  the 
opening  of  the  Houses  of  Parliament  in  Ottawa  by 
His  Royal  Highness  the  Duke  of  Connaught,  and 
hear  his  splendid  reading  of  the  Speech  from  the 
Throne  ;  and  twelve  days  later,  to  hear  Mr.  Taft's 
speech  read  in  Washington. 

Luck  brought  me  to  Ottawa  on  November  21, 
1912.  On  that  day  the  Parliament  of  King 
George  V  was  opened  by  his  Representative  and 
Uncle  at  the  Senate  House  in  that  town. 

I  suppose  I  had  not  thought  much  about  it  be- 
fore, and,  therefore,  it  came  as  a  surprise  that  any- 
thing so  regal,  so  impressive,  so  redolent  of  London 
itself,  could  be  possible  outside  the  capital  of  the 
Empire.  It  chanced  to  be  a  beautiful  day.  The 
snow  had  gone,  the  sun  was  shining  brilliantly, 
the  whole  air  was  gay.  The  Senate  Chamber  is 
about  the  same  size  as  our  House  of  Lords  ;  and  is 
also  covered  in  red.  At  the  end,  on  the  dai's, 
almost  a  facsimile,  though  not  quite  so  grand  as  that 
at  Westminster,  were  the  Chairs  of  State,  on  which 
the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Connaught  sat  during  the 


416  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

ceremony  ;  for  His  Royal  Highness  read  his  Speech 
from  the  Throne  sitting,  although  he  raised  his 
plumed  hat  every  time  he  addressed  the  "Gentle- 
men of  the  Senate"  or  the  "Gentlemen  of  the 
House  of  Commons." 

On  the  "  floor  of  the  House  "  sat  the  officials  with 
their  wives,  in  full  evening  dress,  at  half-past  two  in 
the  afternoon.  One  might  have  been  in  London  ; 
the  women  were  so  well  gowned,  they  were  so  pretty, 
their  manners  so  nice,  and  the  general  air  of  every- 
thing was  so  smart.  I  had  no  idea  there  was  so 
much  wealth,  or  so  much  similarity  to  a  great  Eng- 
lish function,  to  be  seen  in  Canada. 

The  entrance  of  the  Royal  people  was  regal. 
The  Duchess  rested  her  hand  on  that  of  the  Duke 
in  exactly  the  same  way  as  the  Queen  of  England 
rests  her  hand  on  that  of  the  King,  as  she  proceeds 
with  dignified  step  along  the  Royal  Gallery  to  the 
House  of  Lords.  I  have  several  times  seen  this 
function  from  the  former,  though  not  being  a 
Peeress,  I  have  not  had  the  honour  of  witnessing  the 
rest  of  the  ceremony  in  the  House  of  Lords  itself, 
where  only  Peers  or  Peeresses  or  officials  have 
seats.  The  Duchess's  train  was  carried  by  two 
pages  in  royal  red,  and  the  cortege  was  heralded, 
although  the  real  heralds  were  not  there,  and 
followed  by  the  various  members  of  the  suite.  She 
was  smiling  bravely  although  only  just  off  a  bed  of 
sickness.  How  brave  royalty  are. 


WONDERFUL  WASHINGTON  417 

It  was  certainly  impressive.  Two  things,  how- 
ever, struck  me  as  lacking.  One,  the  depth  of  the 
obeisance  of  the  ladies  ;  in  Great  Britain  we  curtsey 
much  lower  to  Royalty.  The  second  thing  was  the 
entrance  of  both  men  and  women  to  their  seats 
after  the  proceedings  had  begun.  This  seemed  to 
show  a  little  want  of  respect.  Just  as  people  are 
shut  out  at  concerts  during  the  performance  of  the 
music,  surely  the  same  should  apply  to  all  those 
who  are  not  in  their  seats  at  the  appointed  time  for 
a  State  ceremony.  That,  and  a  murmur  of  voices 
during  the  proceedings,  showed  an  absence  of  eti- 
quette —  even  good  manners.  Otherwise  the 
whole  proceeding  was  impressive ;  the  interest  of 
the  people,  the  crowds  who  had  flocked  to  enjoy 
the  spectacle  from  the  galleries  and  also  outside, 
the  delightful  tones  in  which  His  Royal  Highness 
read  his  Speech,  the  calm,  manly  dignity  of  his 
bearing,  and  also  his  charming  pronunciation  when 
he  repeated  the  entire  Speech  from  the  Throne, 
word  for  word,  in  the  French  language.  It  seems 
that  the  Duchess  of  Connaught  is  an  excellent 
French  scholar,  and  speaks  that  language  almost 
like  a  native.  The  Governor-general  is  not  quite 
so  fluent,  but  his  accent  is  extraordinarily  good, 
especially  so  for  an  Englishman.  It  was  a  very  gay 
scene,  very  pretty,  and  very  dignified. 

With   the   punctuality   of   Kings,    their   Royal 
Highnesses   arrived    at   the   exact   moment,    and 

2E 


4i 8  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

everything  was  done  to  time.  What  a  pity  it  is 
that  there  is  not  a  little  more  reverence  in  the 
United  States.  There  is  no  doubt  a  pageant 
impresses,  demands  respect,  and  is  a  very 
good  thing  for  everybody.  Besides,  in  the  heart 
of  hearts  of  every  man  and  woman,  pageantry  and 
display  are  loved.  We  all  love  pageants ;  we  all 
love  show,  just  as  we  have  within  our  inmost  hearts 
some  hankering  after  religion,  some  faint  tinge  of 
superstition,  and  some  form  of  ideal.  We  may 
pretend  to  be  prosaic,  we  may  like  to  be  thought 
materialistic ;  yet  in  some  degree  or  other  we  are 
all  idealists,  dreamers,  and  lovers  of  the  beautiful. 
Shyness  often  prevents  our  better  instincts  hav- 
ing full  play.  We  strangle  what  is  best  in  us. 

Twelve  days  after  that  royal  function  in  Ottawa, 
I  was  present  when  Congress  met  at  Washington. 
The  President  does  not  sit  in  the  House.  He  holds 
Cabinet  meetings  at  the  White  House. 

Mr.  Taft's  message  to  Congress  was  read,  in  a 
dull,  monotonous  voice.  No  one  seemed  to  listen  ; 
the  reader  appeared  desirous  of  scrambling 
through  as  quickly  as  possible.  Anything  more 
unimpressive  cannot  be  imagined.1 

1  April  8,  1913,  Dr.  Wilson  threw  down  all  precedent  and  read 
his  own  address  in  the  Lower  Chamber.  He  mounted  the  rostrum 
with  his  Vice  President  and  Mr.  Champ  Clark  on  either  side.  Much 
cheering,  and  then  a  complete  and  stately  silence,  while  he  read  the 
shortest  speech  ever  given  to  Congress  from  a  President. 


WONDERFUL  WASHINGTON  419 

Some  points  from  Mr.  Taft's  last  Message 
Reviewing  Foreign  Relations  and  the  New  Diplo- 
macy were  as  follows  :  — 

"Declares  United  States'  foreign  policy  should  be  raised 
above  partisanship,  and  that  this  Government  should 
present  a  united  front  to  the  world  in  conducting  its  foreign 
relations. 

"Points  to  reorganisation  of  State  Department  as  a  big 
step  forward  in  strengthening  our  diplomatic  resources. 

"Renews  recommendations  for  legislation  making  perma- 
nent the  merit  system  in  the  Diplomatic  and  Consular 
Service. 

"Wants  Government-owned  buildings  for  residences  and 
offices  of  our  diplomatic  officials. 

"Reviews  triumphs  of  United  States'  mediation,  and 
expresses  regret  over  failure  of  two  arbitration  treaties. 

"Discusses  relations  with  China,  and  with  Central  and 
South  American  Republics,  and  Knox's  recent  journey  of 
good-will. 

"Cities'  increase  of  foreign  trade  as  result  of  new  diplo- 
macy. 

"Reviews  claims  and  fisheries  arbitration  with  Great 
Britain. 

"Says  United  States  has  maintained  neutrality  in  con- 
nection with  two  wars  in  the  Near  East. 

"Urges  merchant  marine  and  American  banks  and  news- 
papers in  other  fields  as  means  of  stimulating  commercial 
activity  with  foreign  countries. 

"Declares  opening  of  Panama  canal  will  work  a  new  era 
in  our  international  life,  and  this  nation  must  meet  the  situa- 
tion in  a  manner  befitting  its  high  ideals." 

Anything  more  tame  than  the  opening  of  that 
Congress,  December,  1912,  it  would  be  impossible 
to  imagine. 


420  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

The  country  had  been  in  a  turmoil  for  months. 
The  boiling  bubbles  had  cooled  by  election  night 
when  Woodrow  Wilson  gained  the  seat,  and  all 
interest  in  the  party  leaving  office  was  as  dead  as 
a  herring  within  twenty-four  hours.  Congress 
met  within  a  month  after  election.  Mr.  Taft 
was  still  President,  and  poor  Mr.  Taft  and  his  fol- 
lowing had  to  remain  in  power,  without  power  so 
to  speak,  all  December,  January,  and  February, 
until  the  new  regime  stepped  into  office  in  March. 
The  whole  thing  was  like  a  coach  without  a  driver. 
It  was  moribund.  There  was  no  bubbling  en- 
thusiasm, nor  even  life.  There  was  a  general  air 
of  carelessness,  a  go-as-you-please  attitude.  This 
Republican  party  had  been  strenuous  for  sixteen 
years.  It  had  nothing  to  lose  now  and  everything 
to  gain,  when  once  really  in  opposition. 

The  Democrats  had  come  into  power.  They 
would  take  up  complete  possession  with  the  new 
President  four  months  later ;  the  tension  would 
then  begin.  It  is  often  easier  to  gain  a  reputation 
than  to  hold  one. 

"Will  the  much-talked-of  tariff  revision  come 
into  effect  ? 

"What  about  anti-trust  legislation  ? 

"The  restrictions  of  immigration  ? 

"Will  intoxicants  be  allowed  in  dry  territory  ? 

"Will  six-year  Presidents  without  chance  of 
reelection  be  passed  ? 


I 


- 


i  § 


WONDERFUL  WASHINGTON  421 


Drawn  by  W.  K.  Haselden.    Reproduced  by  permission  of  the  London  Daily  Mirror. 

WHAT  AN  AMERICAN  CANDIDATE  HAS  TO  SPEAK  AGAINST 


422  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

"Will  income  taxes  be  introduced  and  even  sal- 
aries be  taxed  ?" 

All  these  things  had  been  shrieked  loudly  from 
end  to  end  of  the  States  for  months,  and  yet  at 
the  opening  of  Congress  there  did  not  seem  to  be 
a  single  man  present  whose  voice  could  speak 
above  a  whisper. 

An  hour  and  a  half  after  the  opening  of  Congress 
a  strange  thing  happened.  A  great  and  impor- 
tant, and  at  the  same  time  a  curious,  case  came  on  : 
a  Federal  Judge  was  tried  by  the  Senate,  which 
organised  itself  into  a  Court  of  Impeachment  after 
the  opening  ceremony.  He  had  been  impeached 
by  the  House  of  Representatives.  A  crowd  filled 
the  galleries  to  see  such  an  unusual  spectacle  as  a 
Judge  on  trial  charged  with  grave  offences  render- 
ing him  unfit  to  hold  office.  It  was  only  the  ninth 
time  in  the  history  of  the  Republic  that  such  a 
thing  had  happened. 

Solemnly  the  Judge  marched  in  with  a  host  of 
Counsel.  Everyone  had  to  be  sworn.  Every- 
one looked  very  solemn  ;  but  the  proceedings  were 
long-drawn  out  and  lasted  many  weary  days  - 
the  subjects  varying  from  railroads  to  land  sales, 
coal,  loans,  promissory  notes,  and  other  technical 
things.  All  America  was  agog  with  interest. 

The  Judge  and  his  solicitors  and  friends  sat  in 
a  row  in  front  of  the  House,  the  Speaker  being 
in  the  chair. 


WONDERFUL  WASHINGTON  423 

To  my  mind,  and  I  was  only  a  bird  of  passage, 
Mr.  Elihu  Root  was  far  the  most  important  poli- 
tician I  saw  in  Washington.  Tall,  thin,  grey,  he 
impressed  me  deeply  as  he  stood  fighting  the 
Panama  tolls,  appealing  to  the  nation  to  stand  by 
their  treaty  and  keep  their  promise  to  Great 
Britain.  Mr.  Choate,  one  of  the  most  able  am- 
bassadors America  ever  sent  to  the  Court  of  St. 
James,  took  the  same  stand.  Mr.  Roosevelt 
said  apropos  of  this,  "A  promise  to  arbitrate  is 
worthless  unless  we  mean  to  keep  it  on  the  precise 
occasions  when  it  is  unpleasant  for  us  to  do  so/' 

"Will  international  arbitration  be  the  end  of 
war?"  one  asks  oneself  again  and  again.  Ah  — 
Quien  sabe? 

I  was  kindly  invited  to  luncheon  by  Speaker 
and  Mrs.  Champ  Clark.  Mr.  Champ  Clark,  it 
will  be  remembered,  was  nearly  made  President 
of  the  United  States.  He  took  me  to  the 
Speaker's  gallery,  and  left  me  with  his  wife  to 
see  the  proceedings  opened.  It  was  interesting 
to  hear  a  debate  in  Congress.  The  chamber  is 
much  larger  than  our  House  of  Commons,  and 
every  man  not  only  has  a  seat,  but  a  little  desk.1 
In  this  House  there  are  only  four  hundred  and 
thirty-five  members  ;  in  the  Upper  House  (Senate) 
there  are  ninety-six.  The  Senate  is  about  the  same 
size  as  the  House  of  Lords,  and  there  is  ample  room 

1  Benches  have  since  been  substituted  for  the  desks. 


424  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

for  many  more  senators.  But  Congress  has  fewer 
representatives  than  our  House  of  Commons, 
where  there  are  six  hundred  and  seventy  members, 
if  I  mistake  not ;  our  floor  space  is  limited,  for 
there  is  no  room  for  these  men  all  to  get  a  seat 
at  the  same  time,  and  they  have  no  desks. 

We  are  over-represented ;  America  is  under- 
represented.  In  Great  Britain  every  thirteen  or 
fourteen  thousand  people  have  a  representative ; 
in  America  every  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
people  have  a  member. 

There  is  a  certain  everyday  calm  dignity  in  the 
House  of  Commons  (except  when  they  forget 
themselves  and  have  a  vulgar  and  distressing 
row)  that  does  not  exist  in  the  American  House. 
All  British  members  sit  down  or  loll  in  their  seats, 
except  when  they  are  actually  speaking.  In 
Washington  they  seem  to  wander  about  most  of 
the  time,  sit  and  dangle  their  legs,  or  lean  on  the 
desks  ;  messenger  boys  ply  to  and  fro  ;  in  fact  there 
is  so  much  hubbub  going  on,  on  the  floor,  that  it 
is  almost  impossible  to  hear  what  any  speaker  is 
saying.  It  is  a  very  go-as-you-please  affair,  but 
they  are  never  so  rude  as  to  boo  any  one  down. 

The  authorities  are  very  polite  to  the  general 
public.  There  are  splendid  galleries  for  the  people, 
large  and  comfortable,  and  women  take  their 
seats  therein  among  the  men.  They  are  treated 
as  ordinary  human  beings  and  not  like  wild  beasts, 


WONDERFUL  WASHINGTON  425 

relegated  or  hidden  away  behind  a  wooden  cage, 
as  in  our  House  of  Commons ;  nor  put  in  a  pen 
where  they  cannot  see,  as  in  the  House  of  Lords. 

British  women  do  much  political  work  ;  they  do 
it  because  they  are  interested,  and  keen,  and  often 
speak  well,  and  yet  are  treated  politically  as  of  no 
account.  American  women  rarely  do  any  political 
work  at  all  and  yet  are  welcomed  as  human  beings. 

There  was  a  constant  murmur  from  the  gallery, 
which  —  combined  with  the  ceaseless  moving 
about  downstairs,  the  incessant  chatting  among 
themselves,  the  nonchalant  air  of  the  members, 
and  the  general  want  of  attention  —  does  not  give 
a  dignified  picture,  nor  impress  one  with  the  idea 
that  the  laws  of  a  vast  continent  are  being  made 
by  these  restless  gentlemen.  The  proceedings, 
which  last  generally  from  twelve  o'clock  till  five, 
begin  in  the  same  way  as  ours,  with  a  prayer,  and 
the  pastor  in  this  case  was  blind.  We  once  had  a 
blind  Postmaster-General  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons and  his  widow,  Mrs.  Henry  Fawcett,  is  our 
most  esteemed  suffrage  leader ;  Washington  has  a 
blind  chaplain  in  Congress. 

After  an  hour's  debate,  very  little  of  which  I 
was  able  to  hear,  we  went  to  the  Speaker's  private 
room ;  a  fine,  big,  comfortable  abode,  with  de- 
lightful easy-chairs  and  a  beautiful  view.  Then 
we  proceeded  downstairs  to  his  dining-room, 
where  twenty  of  us  enjoyed  his  hospitality  at 


426  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

luncheon.  The  porcelain  made  me  feel  partic- 
ularly at  home  as  it  was  prettily  decorated  with 
Scotch  thistles.  A  predecessor  in  office  had  been 
a  Scotchman,  and  had  left  his  mark  upon  the 
china.  All  the  china  in  the  House  of  Commons 
in  England  is  decorated  with  the  arms  of  West- 
minster in  the  form  of  a  portcullis. 

Mr.  Champ  (short  for  Beauchamp)  Clark  has 
a  wonderful  head,  white  hair,  a  fine  nose,  and 
strong  mouth.  In  fact,  his  head  is  very  striking. 
He  would  have  made  a  splendid  ornament  to  the 
presidential  chair,  and  is  much  more  dignified  and 
quieter  in  manner  than  Mr.  Roosevelt  or  Mr.  Taft. 

The  United  States  pay  their  members  of  the 
House  of  Representatives  $7500  a  year,  or  about 
£1500  a  year.  Alas  and  alack,  we  now  pay  our 
English  members  four  hundred  pounds  per  an- 
num, and  with  the  advent  of  paid  politics  the 
whole  tone  of  our  House  has  changed.  Corrupt 
practices  creep  in  with  paid  politics.  Instead  of 
men  giving  up  their  lives  to  their  country  and 
studying  political  economy  and  history  with  the  ob- 
ject of  going  into  Parliament,  instead  of  the  House 
being  filled  by  some  of  the  best  and  most  cultured 
brains  of  the  country  and  with  disinterested  patri- 
otic men,  we  shall  now  have  members  to  whom 
four  hundred  pounds  a  year  is  a  fortune,  and  the 
whole  tone  of  the  House  of  Commons  will  be  altered. 

At  the   present  moment   there  are    no    darky 


WONDERFUL  WASHINGTON  427 

members  in  the  House  of  Representatives, 
but  there  have  been  on  different  occasions.  It  is 
strange  that  more  have  not  been  able  to  gain  ad- 
mittance, but  then  there  are  few  brains  equal  to 
Booker  Washington's  among  their  number,  al- 
though their  status  is  considerably  improved  since 
Mr.  Roosevelt  invited  that  gentleman  to  luncheon 
with  him  at  the  White  House. 

When  anything  is  to  be  put  to  the  vote  in  Con- 
gress, it  is  often  settled  viva  voce  by  the  members 
standing  and  being  counted  by  the  Speaker ;  but 
when  there  is  any  uncertainty  as  to  the  result,  or 
too  large  a  number  of  members  for  this  proceeding 
are  present,  there  is  a  roll  call  and  the  members 
answer  to  their  names  "Aye"  or  "No." 

In  England,  only  members  of  the  Cabinet  and 
secretaries  have  a  room  to  themselves,  but  in  Wash- 
ington every  member  of  Congress  (both  Houses) 
has  his  own  private  study.  It  is  really  a  neces- 
sity because  many  of  these  men  live  three  or  four 
days'  journey  away  from  the  capital,  and  conse- 
quently during  the  session  at  Washington  they 
must  have  somewhere  to  keep  their  papers  and 
do  their  work.  Thus  it  is  that  they  are  allowed 
these  charming  workshops. 

How  different :  the  calm,  quiet  dignity  of 
the  opening  of  the  Canadian  Parliament  by  the 
uncle  of  a  Royal  King,  and  the  indifference  and 
go-as-you-please  reading  of  the  Speech  of  the 


428  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

President  of  the  United  States  at  Washington ; 
and  then  the  absolutely  callous  indifference  to  duty 
in  the  Argentine. 

Ten  weeks  later  still  I  was  in  Buenos  Ayres 
(February  18,  1913).  It  was  a  great  day,  be- 
cause it  was  the  last  possible  moment  for  a  ratifi- 
cation of  an  important  convention  with  Italy,  and 
a  Special  Ambassador  had  already  sailed  for 
Europe. 

A  few  minutes  before  four  o'clock  the  British 
Minister  (Sir  Reginald  Tower)  and  I  drove  up  to 
the  palace  of  marble.  The  Buenos  Ayres  Congress 
Hall,  called  Camera  de  Congresso,  is  to  my  mind  the 
most  beautiful  modern  building  I  have  ever  seen. 
It  is  not  as  big  as  the  Capitol  at  Washington,  nor  as 
wonderful  in  design  as  the  House  of  Commons  in 
London.  But  it  is  white  and  clean  and  majestic. 
It  is  dignified,  and  exactly  suited  to  a  warm  cli- 
mate and  brilliant  sun. 

That  mysterious  little  ticket  which  diplomatists 
carry  soon  gained  admission  to  the  special  box ; 
but  lo,  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  was  empty. 

There  were  the  dark  red  leather  seats, — unoc- 
cupied. Every  little  table  had  a  palm-leaf  fan 
resting  on  the  blotting-pad,  but  no  one  was  sipping 
tea,  which  is  the  custom,  it  seems.  The  mo- 
ment a  man  rises  to  speak,  he  is  given  tea. 

The  public  sit  in  boxes;  several  of  them  had 
occupants.  The  press  was  ready;  but  the  floor 


WONDERFUL  WASHINGTON  429 

of  the  House  was  empty.  For  weeks  they  had  been 
trying  to  get  a  quorum.  Day  after  day  whips 
had  been  issued  far  and  wide,  to  some  of  the 
highest-paid  members  of  Parliament  in  the  world, 
requesting  them  to  do  their  duty.  These  men 
receive  £1500  a  year  each,  but  they  were  too  busy 
bathing  and  gambling  at  Mar  del  Plata,  their 
great  South  American  watering-place,  or  attend- 
ing to  their  estancias,  to  return  to  attend  to  their 
public  work.  It  was  indeed  a  comic  situation. 
Neither  patriotism,  telegraphic  whips,  shame  of 
drawing  a  salary  for  nothing,  or  threats  of  force 
could  collect  a  quorum  of  fifty-one  members  out 
of  a  hundred  and  twenty.  Dr.  Palacios  moved 
that  the  police  should  fetch  the  absentees.  He 
spoke  of  national  disgrace,  that  the  honour  of  the 
country  was  compromised,  and  so  on. 

There  we  sat.  No  one  did  anything.  Nothing 
happened,  and  so  a  great  national  question  was 
left  alone. 

It  really  seemed  a  childish  affair  in  a  House  of 
such  exquisite  beauty. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

HETEROGENEOUS 

BUT  to  return  to  our  mutton,  which  in  this  case 
is  Washington,  a  funny  little  incident  is  perhaps 
worth  relating. 

The  town  was  for  a  long  time  perturbed  where 
to  place  a  very  important  statue.  Much  discus- 
sion took  place,  because  it  was  to  emphasise  the 
glory  of  the  whole  American  nation.  At  last  a 
tiny  plot  of  land  was  decided  upon.  A  vast  con- 
course of  people  were  bidden  to  the  unveiling,  and 
among  them  the  late  British  Ambassador,  Mr. 
Bryce. 

Since  the  English  were  driven  out  of  the  States 
in  the  eighteenth  century,  the  only  inch  of  land  we 
possess  as  our  very  own  is  the  Embassy  at  Wash- 
ington. 

Gaily  stepping  down  from  the  tram-car  at  the 
gates  of  Britain's  only  terra  firma  possession,  my 
attention  was  arrested  by  the  statue  of  a  man  op- 
posite, with  a  pen  in  his  hand. 

When  our  Ambassador  entered  the  drawing- 
room,  I  exclaimed :  — 

"Why,  Mr.  Bryce,  you  have  a  grand  new  statue 
here  since  my  last  visit. " 

430 


HETEROGENEOUS  431 

He  laughed. 

"Who  is  it  ?" 

"That  statue  is  placed  there,"  and  he  chuckled, 
"to  ennoble  the  gentleman  who  signed  the  Dec- 
laration of  Independence." 

So  that  small  spot,  exactly  opposite  our  Em- 
bassy, the  city  had  chosen  for  the  erection  of  the 
statue  commemorating  our  defeat  !  It  was  a 
comical  idea  to  place  it  immediately  facing  the 
only  bit  of  territory  remaining  to  us  ;  and  stranger 
still  to  invite  the  Ambassador  from  Great  Britain 
to  assist  at  the  opening  ceremony.  Americans 
can  have  little  sense  of  humour. 

"Did  you  go?" 

"Yes,  of  course;  I  went  to  their  rejoicing 
to  show  there  was  no  animosity.  The  Americans 
often  ask  me  to  go  to  dinner  celebrations  of  some 
victory  they  gained  over  us,  and  it  is  always  most 
good-natured  and  amusing.  All  personal  feeling 
in  the  matter  is  dead." 

Some  countries  would  make  war  over  a  smaller 
episode.  We  are  wiser.  We  planted  our  lan- 
guage and  our  names.  The  British  impress  on 
America  is  indelible. 

Great  Britain  may  be  proud  of  her  Embassy  at 
Washington.  It  is  a  noble  home  of  red  brick, 
not  far  short  of  the  White  House  itself. 

Up  a  flight  of  stone  steps  one  enters  a  fine  hall 
with  a  staircase  facing  the  door,  and  where  this 


432  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

stair  branches  off  to  the  right  and  left,  a  life-size 
portrait  of  Queen  Victoria  smiles  upon  the  guests. 
There  are  fine  reception  rooms  and  a  good  ball- 
room ;  in  fact,  it  is  an  imposing  Embassy,  although 
inconveniently  old-fashioned  in  many  ways.  In 
spite  of  America  sending  us  her  best  men  as  her 
Ambassadors,  she  does  not,  as  previously  men- 
tioned, provide  them  with  free  quarters  in  London. 
If  her  representative  is  poor,  he  is  obliged  to  live 
in  some  cheap  district ;  if,  perchance,  he  should 
be  a  millionaire,  he  can  rent  a  "Dorchester 
House,"  and  pay  for  it  out  of  his  own  purse,  as 
his  salary  is  ridiculously  small. 

We  train  our  diplomats  in  political  economy, 
history,  and  languages  from  boyhood,  and  their 
zenith  is  an  Ambassadorship,  but  America  picks 
out  a  good  businesslike  man  who  seems  suitable 
for  the  post.  In  the  case  of  Mr.  Bryce,  however, 
who  is  a  lawyer,  a  politician,  and,  above  all,  the 
writer  of  the  "American  Commonwealth,"  Great 
Britain  laid  aside  her  rule,  and  he  was  chosen  for 
Washington.  For  six  years  he  ably  filled  the 
post,  and  endeared  himself  to  the  country  to  which 
he  was  sent  as  Ambassador,  by  his  scholarly  ways, 
and  amusing  and  witty  speeches.  If  such  a 
thing  exists  as  transmigration  of  souls,  Mr.  Bryce 
must  have  lived  in  America  in  a  previous 
existence,  so  much  in  sympathy  is  he  with  the 
American  people. 


HETEROGENEOUS  433 

My  old  friend  somewhat  resembles  Mr.  Car- 
negie in  appearance ;  both  are  small,  wear  closely 
clipped  grey  beards,  both  are  young  for  their  years, 
full  of  life  and  vitality,  but  there  the  likeness  ends. 
Mr.  Bryce  is  a  great  scholar;  he  has  read  enor- 
mously, travelled  widely,  is  quick  and  tempera- 
mental, and  has  one  of  the  most  retentive  mem- 
ories I  have  ever  come  across.  He  appears  to 
have  forgotten  nothing  in  his  long  and  busy  life. 
Like  Lord  Justice  Fletcher  Moulton,  he  can  join 
in  any  conversation,  in  an  intelligent  manner, 
ranging  from  Honolulu  to-day,  the  spectrum  of 
the  theodolite,  to  China  and  Confucius  of  the  past, 
Fiji  of  to-morrow,  or  the  earliest  inhabitants  of 
Mexico.  A  memory  of  that  kind  is  one  of  God's 
greatest  gifts,  and  rare  indeed. 

The  Bryces  lived  a  quiet  and  simple  home  life, 
except  when  they  entertained  on  Monday  nights ; 
and  the  Ambassador  thoroughly  enjoyed  his  lunch- 
eons of  Spanish  mackerel,  followed  by  his  British 
pipe  and  coffee,  chatting  meanwhile  to  a  friend ; 
he  is  always  then  at  his  best.  Mr.  Bryce  is  a 
great  man  in  many  ways.  He  is  not  only  pos- 
sessed of  much  learning  but  has  proved  himself  a 
diplomatist,  and  has  a  cheery,  frank,  and  pleasant 
manner,  and  has  an  able  helpmate  in  his  wife. 

There  was  great  excitement  in  Washington 
during  my  visit  just  before  Christmas,  1912,  about 
the  Banking  and  Currency  Committee. 


2F 


434  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

The  first  Trust  in  America  was  the  Havemeyer 
Trust  in  1889.  It  seemed  an  extraordinary  thing 
that,  by  1912,  five  or  six  men  in  the  United  States 
were  juggling  with  more  money  than  the  entire 
Government  had  at  its  disposal.  The  control 
exercised  by  these  men  had  become  so  colossal 
that  a  great  agitation  had  arisen  against  this 
monopoly  of  finance. 

Hence  the  enquiry. 

Mr.  Arsene  Pujo  was  the  Chairman,  —  a  de- 
lightful Southerner  from  New  Orleans,  who 
spoke  fluent  French,  and  retailed  quaint  stories  of 
darkies  remembered  from  his  youth.  It  was  no 
light  post  to  be  chosen  Chairman  of  such  a  Com- 
mittee, and  to  have  the  greatest  financiers  of 
America  in  the  box. 

This  tremendous  enquiry  into  the  money  trusts 
was  held  in  a  small  room  in  the  House  of  Repre- 
sentatives. Around  its  table  sat  the  Chairman, 
Mr.  Pujo;  the  Government's  Counsel  (Mr. 
Samuel  Untermyer),  and  the  men  who  were,  so  to 
speak,  in  the  witness-box.  The  only  person  al- 
lowed to  ask  questions  was  the  Counsel,  and  the 
one  object  of  the  Government  he  represented  was 
to  break  down  the  enormous  Trust  embracing 
about  a  hundred  and  thirty-four  companies,  and 
to  make  it  in  future  impossible  for  the  whole 
country  to  be  ruled  by  a  handful  of  financiers. 
'  I  hate  money. 


HETEROGENEOUS 


435 


Drawn  by  Frances  E.  Jones. 

A  BIT  OF  OLD  NEW  ORLEANS 


436  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

Money  is  not  my  god  ;  money  so  often  leads  to 
jealousy,  to  juggling,  and  to  dishonesty ;  we  must 
have  enough  for  our  requirements,  but  personally  I 
prefer  a  more  modest  sum  to  tens  of  thousands 
of  dollars  a  year,  when  one  sees  how  most  of  it  is 
made  and  spent. 

Is  money  worth  all  the  scramble  that  Americans 
go  through  for  its  attainment  ? 

"No,  a  thousand  times  No,"  say  I ;  and  yet 
"what  is  the  good  of  having  money  if  one  may  not 
talk  about  it  ?"  says  the  American. 

On  October  24,  1912,  when  I  was  sitting  in  the 
wonderful  library  of  Mr.  J.  Pierpont  Morgan,  he 
told  me  the  last  of  his  treasures,  the  miniature 
collection,  was  on  the  high  seas  on  its  way  to  the 
States. 

Think  of  what  the  people  of  Great  Britain  lost  ! 
After  his  death  his  son  insured  the  collection  for 
twenty-three  million  dollars. 

But  for  our  exorbitant  death  duties,  which 
Mr.  Morgan  dare  not  face,  we  might  have  had, 
anyway,  part  of  these  treasures.  That  was  only 
fair.  Many  of  them  were  collected  in  England, 
and  were  housed  for  years  in  London  at  Princes 
Gate,  or  loaned  to  our  museums. 

We  were  foolish  enough  to  let  them  go.  Amer- 
ica was  ungrateful  enough  to  haggle  over  their 
acceptance  by  not  conceding  at  once  to  Mr.  Mor- 


HETEROGENEOUS  437 

gan's  wish  that  the  Metropolitan  Museum  should 
build  a  special  wing.  When  he  was  dead,  —  and 
not  till  then, — they  at  once  voted  the  money.  He 
died  not  knowing  the  ultimate  destination  of  his 
treasures. 

Mr.  Morgan  was  a  man  of  medium  height,  with 
the  most  strangely  piercing  eyes  —  a  man  one 
would  have  noticed  anywhere.  Besides  being  a 
genius  at  finance,  Mr.  Morgan  helped  his  country 
over  many  stiles  ;  he  not  only  appreciated  Art, 
but  really  understood  it.  Sir  William  Agnew 
once  told  me  what  exquisite  taste  Mr.  Morgan 
had,  when  we  were  all  three  sitting  together  at 
Princes  Gate  ;  and  Dr.  Williamson,  the  compiler 
of  those  beautiful  Morgan  catalogues,  once  said, 
"He  hardly  ever  makes  a  mistake." 

His  library  in  New  York  is  built  quite  separate 
from  his  house,  and  consists  of  about  three  rooms 
and  a  large  marble  hall. 

One  enters  by  fine  bronze  doors,  and  on  the  right 
is  the  main  library --a  very  large  room,  but  a 
very,  very  small  library  in  size  when  compared  to 
Lord  Acton's  famous  room  at  Bridgenorth.  It 
has  a  gallery,  and  all  the  walls  are  lined  with  books  ; 
no  glass  on  the  bookcases ;  but  brass  cross-pat- 
terned wires  cover  the  precious  volumes,  and  lock 
them  away  safely.  Old  Italian  chairs,  cardi- 
nals' chairs,  stand  in  rows ;  fine  tables  have 
cases  of  treasures  upon  them ;  jewelled  books  of 


438  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

Charles  V  ;  Byzantine  gold  ornaments  ;  Egyptian 
treasures  ;  and  an  olla  podrida. 

On  the  left  was  his  own  "sanctum"  wherein 
he  sat.  Its  famous  ceiling  came  wholesale  from 
Italy;  the  glass  in  all  the  windows  is  "remade," 
he  said;  "all  old  bits,  remodelled  and  refitted 
into  a  whole."  Soft  red  Italian  damask  covered 
the  walls,  soft  velvet  covered  the  sofas ;  Memling 
pictures,  old  Limoges  enamels,  lustre  plates,  pre- 
cious bronzes,  all  and  everything  beautiful,  stood 
on  the  book  shelves,  which  were  about  four  to  six 
feet  from  the  floor. 

Off  this  room  was  the  Holy  of  Holies ;  this  was 
locked  off,  and  contained  the  original  Mss.  of 
Scott,  Meredith,  Milton,  and  the  exquisite  small 
illuminated  volume  of  Benvenuto  Cellini. 

Galileo  was  persecuted  in  the  sixteenth  century 
for  his  scientific  discoveries,  and  another  Italian, 
Torricelli,  a  few  years  later  made  a  barometer 
and  thermometer  ;  little  did  either  of  them  dream 
of  the  vast  results  to  follow. 

A  hundred  years  later  Benjamin  Franklin, 
among  many  other  things,  first  saw  the  possibility 
of  locating  and  predicting  storms ;  one  wonders 
if  he  ever  vaguely  had  visions  of  the  perfection  we 
are  nearing  to-day. 

"May  I  introduce  you  to  the  clerk  of  the 
weather  ?"  a  woman  laughingly  asked. 


HETEROGENEOUS  439 

"Delighted,"  I  replied.  "He  is  a  gentleman 
to  whom  I  should  like  to  give  a  bit  of  my  mind 
occasionally." 

Before  me  stood  a  pleasant-faced  man  with 
grey  hair.  This  was  Professor  Willis  Moore, 
Chief  of  the  United  States  Weather  Bureau  at 
Washington,  and  one  of  the  most  interesting  men 
I  met  in  America.  For  sixteen  years  he  has  looked 
after  this  department,  which  has  grown  and 
grown,  until  to-day  two  hundred  clerks  are  em- 
ployed in  Washington,  and  two  thousand  officials 
elsewhere  at  a  couple  of  hundred  observation  sta- 
tions scattered  through  the  country.  We  at 
home  are  indebted  to  this  Weather  Bureau ; 
for  as  most  of  the  storms  travel  from  the 
west  to  the  east,  it  is  this  Bureau  which  forecasts 
wind,  rain,  snow,  or  heat  upon  our  shores. 

At  ten  o'clock  every  morning  all  the  observa- 
tions in  the  world  have  arrived  at  this  office,  and 
an  hour  or  so  later  this  information,  classified  and 
compressed,  has  been  sent  by  rural  telephone  to 
five  million  farmers  in  the  United  States. 

What  will  be  the  end  of  all  this  ?  It  really 
seems  that  these  observations,  made  now  so  scien- 
tifically in  every  land,  will  one  day  enable  us  to 
foretell,  not  merely  a  week  ahead,  as  they  do  to- 
day, but  a  month,  or  perhaps  a  whole  season. 
That  will  be  the  agriculturists'  and  shippers' 
millennium.  The  farmer  will  know  when  to  plant 


440  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

the  seed ;  the  shipper  will  be  certain  when  his 
vessel  should  leave  port,  and  what  route  she 
should  take. 

One  has  to  pause  and  wonder  what  the  end  of 
all  these  inventions  is  to  be.  No  single  brain 
can  assimilate  a  hundredth  part  of  their  number. 
Are  we  all  to  become  specialists  in  a  hundred  years' 
time  in  one  particular  line,  and  know  nothing 
whatever  of  the  multiple  sciences  around  us  ? 
This  is  an  age  of  specialisation,  and  with  the  enor- 
mous advancement  of  knowledge  even  specialisa- 
tion has  its  own  branches,  and  tends  to  presup- 
pose that  our  brains  will  become  lopsided,  or  at 
least  confined  to  some  particular  line  of  work. 

It  really  seems  as  if  all  the  "  education  "  that  is 
necessary  to-day  is  reading,  writing,  and  arithmetic. 
Those  rudiments  all  must  learn.  But  from  that 
moment  each  boy  and  girl  should  specialise. 
There  is  no  time  to  make  a  lumber-room  of  one's 
brain.  Technical  training  should  commence  at 
once  along  whatever  line  the  child  wishes  ulti- 
mately to  develop ;  this  should  be  followed  by 
more  profound  learning  towards  the  chosen  career. 
Such  "  education  "  would  have  its  faults,  it  would 
be  narrow,  but  life  is  becoming  so  complex  educa- 
tion must  of  necessity  become  focussed.  The  per- 
sonal instinct  of  the  individual  will  have  to  find 
its  own  vent,  in  its  own  way,  in  its  own  leisure. 

Little  kites  are  nowadays  sent  up  into  space, 


HETEROGENEOUS  441 

alone,  but  aided  by  science,  for  they  contain  in- 
struments that  test  the  atmospheric  pressure, 
and  register  the  height  to  which  they  ascend ;  and 
they  return  to  earth  with  the  results  of  their 
investigations. 

Where  will  it  all  end  ? 

Will  Marconi's  amazing  developments  prevent 
all  disaster  at  sea  by  telling  captains  how  to  alter 
their  course  to  avoid  the  elements  ?  Shall  we 
prevent  every  disease  by  inoculation  ? 

All  these  things,  and  more,  are  being  perfected 
year  by  year  through  the  vast  strides  of  Science. 
How  much  we  all  owe  to  her  labourers,  and  yet 
how  ill  their  toil  is  rewarded  either  by  honour  or 
gold. 

After  a  third  visit  to  Washington,  I  feel  that 
if  I  were  going  to  live  in  the  States,  Washington 
would  be  my  choice.  It  is  the  playground  of 
American  Society,  the  working  home  of  American 
politics.  In  twelve  years  it  has  grown  enormously ; 
not  like  Chicago,  —  in  a  business,  bustling  way,  — 
but  socially,  grown  in  fine  homes,  splendid  man- 
sions, and  cosmopolitan  life,  in  its  best  sense. 
Everyone  wears  evening  dress.  People  dine  at 
eight  o'clock  instead  of  at  seven.  All  languages 
are  spoken  by  the  diplomatic  world,  and  Wash- 
ington is  like  London,  Paris,  Berlin,  or  St.  Peters- 
burg in  its  social  atmosphere.  Society  fluctuates 


442  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

as  diplomatic  society  must ;  but  there  are  always 
big  brains  and  large  ideas  to  be  found  in  Washing- 
ton. 

Boston  is  a  city  of  ideals ;  Washington,  a  city 
of  ideas ;  Chicago,  a  city  of  force ;  New  York,  a 
city  of  dollars. 

It  was  a  stroke  of  luck  that  Captain  Gibbons, 
who  had  been  Naval  Attache  in  London,  should 
be  the  Superintendent  of  the  United  States  Naval 
Academy  at  Annapolis  in  the  winter  of  1912 ; 
and  very  pleasant  were  the  two  days  I  passed 
there,  with  him  and  his  wife,  in  their  lovely  home. 

What  a  world  it  is --that  small  naval  city 
within  stone  walls.  To  the  sound  of  martial 
music  one  is  awakened  in  the  morning,  as  the 
midshipmen  march  past  in  battalions  to  their 
work.  These  youths  seem  to  have  an  excellent 
time.  They  are  kept  very  hard  at  work  ;  and  the 
United  States  has  taken  a  lesson  from  our  British 
men  by  insisting  on  physical  culture  and  physical 
exercise,  and  these  boys  must  either  have  games 
and  extra  drill,  or  take  long  walks  under  super- 
vision every  day.  Naturally  they  do  not  care 
for  the  latter. 

There  are  something  like  one  hundred  and  fifty 
professors  at  Annapolis,  and  delightful  men 
many  of  them  seemed  to  be.  It  is  a  veritable 
colony ;  for  those  who  are  married  live  in  de- 
tached houses  of  their  own. 


HETEROGENEOUS  443 

One  great  feature  at  the  time  of  my  visit  was 
the  hydroplane  practice  when  these  machines 
were  trundled  to  the  water,  from  which  they  took 
their  flight.  Unfortunately  the  wind  was  so 
high  during  my  actual  stay,  that  they  could  not 
rise  ;  but  it  is  part  of  the  educational  system  that 
some  of  these  middies  should  learn  to  fly. 

Looking  back  across  the  Severn,  the  gold  roof 
of  the  little  church  reminded  one  of  Russia,  and 
one's  thoughts  wandered  back  to  that  magnificent 
Greek  cathedral,  built  by  the  sailors'  pence,  at 
Kronstadt  on  the  Neva,  as  an  offering  and  prayer 
for  their  safety  at  sea. 

Is  it  merely  chance  that  we  hear  so  much  more 
about  the  United  States  Navy  than  formerly,  or 
is  it  becoming  an  important  factor  in  the  world  ? 

Officers  of  both  services  seem  more  to  the  fore 
than  they  used  to  be  ;  and  yet  there  are  only  about 
thirty  thousand  soldiers  among  a  hundred  million 
people.  The  Navy,  on  the  other  hand,  is  becoming 
very  efficient. 

England  has  the  largest  Navy  in  the  world  ; 
France  the  second  ;  and  the  United  States  the 
third. 

We  take  our  boys  at  twelve,  keep  them  at 
Osborne  for  two  years  and  two  years  more  at 
Dartmouth.  After  six  months  on  a  training  ship 
we  send  them  to  sea.  Up  to  that  time  their 
parents  pay  for  their  education. 


444 


AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 


Annapolis  is  the  one  Naval  Academy  in  the 
United  States.  It  houses  seven  hundred  and 
fifty  boys  (and  has  room  for  one  thousand)  ;  it 
takes  them  in  between  the  ages  of  sixteen  and 
twenty,  keeps  them  at  work,  and  very  hard  work, 
too,  for  four  years,  with  only  one  month's  holiday 
in  the  year.  They  get  good  wages  from  the  first. 
During  this  naval  course  they  go  for  three  months 
each  year  to  sea,  generally  on  a  battle-ship  with 
the  Atlantic  Fleet ;  then  on  leaving  the  Academy, 
they  get  their  commission  as  ensigns,  and  go  off  to 
sea  often  for  seven  or  eight  years  without  a  break. 

Which  country's  system  is  the  best  can  only  be 
shown  by  subsequent  trial  in  warfare. 

Luckily  these  two  English-speaking  Navies  are 
the  best  of  friends,  and  always  ought  to  be.  But 
that  it  should  be  so  is  amazing,  considering  the 
way  American  children  are  still  fed  on  the  "cruelties 
of  British  rule,"  and  enjoy  everlasting  feasting  and 
rejoicing  over  every  British  defeat,  their  greatest 
annual  holiday  being  in  commemoration  of  freeing 
themselves  from  the  yoke  of  America's  best  friend. 

We  have  none  of  these  feelings  in  England.  We 
teach  our  children  to  respect  and  admire  the 
younger  land,  and  foster  good  feeling  with  Brother 
Jonathan.  We  cannot  be  united  again  by  law, 
but  every  bond  of  friendship  should  be  tightened, 
every  link  of  brotherhood  strengthened.  English 
is  becoming  the  language  of  the  world,  and  we  all 


HETEROGENEOUS 


445 


Drawn  by  Verntn  Howe  Bailey. 


A.  HOTEL  IN  THE  SOUTH 


446  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

originally  come  from  the  same  stem.  In  spite  of 
Annapolis  being  on  the  Severn,  with  a  Queen  Anne 
church  and  English  names  everywhere,  the  very 
first  thing  I  was  shown  was  the  Royal  Standard  - 
taken,  of  course,  from  our  poor  troops  —  and 
other  English  flags,  all  of  which  were  being  most 
wonderfully  restored  for  the  Naval  Academy  of 
America  by  an  English  woman.  We  seem  to 
have  sent  out  an  extraordinary  number  of  flags 
with  our  army,  and  to  have  scattered  them  about 
in  a  most  promiscuous  manner,  judging  by  their 
display  in  the  States. 

We  have  had  one  hundred  years  of  peace 
between  all  English-speaking  peoples.  Let  us 
shake  hands  across  the  seas  and  vow  that  peace 
shall  never  again  be  broken.  It  is  a  hundred 
years  since  the  treaty  of  Ghent  ended  the  last 
war  between  Britain  and  the  United  States.  All 
the  old  subjects  of  dispute  have  gone.  A  large 
family  is  reunited. 

What  a  dear  old  town  Annapolis  is.  One 
hundred  years  ago  it  was  bigger  than  New  York, 
to-day  it  is  a  baby  in  comparison.  Within  its 
confines  stands  the  delightful  little  red  brick  house 
with  its  two  or  three  rooms,  the  first  public  building 
in  Maryland. 

There  are  lots  of  houses  of  the  old  colonial  archi- 
tecture with  the  slave  wings  on  either  side,  for 
Maryland  was  a  hotbed  of  slavery. 


HETEROGENEOUS  447 

JTis  an  old-world  town  —  Annapolis  ;  with  its 
funny  buggies  plying  the  streets,  and  strange  carts 
with  great  heavy  lumbering  oxen,  neither  as  fine 
nor  as  handsome  as  those  of  Spain  or  Portugal, 
where  ox-drawn  carts  are  such  a  feature.  'Tis  a 
town  resonant  of  colonial  days,  which,  while  they 
ended  in  1776,  have  left  their  dignified  imprint 
till  now.  One  sees  it  in  the  architecture,  the  social 
life,  the  politeness  of  the  people,  and  even  in  the 
gardens. 

Old  England's  influence  is  still  strongly  marked 
three  thousand  miles  away  in  New  England,  in 
Virginia,  in  Carolina,  and  in  Maryland.  We  are 
one  people.  Only  twenty  miles  divide  us  from 
France,  to  which  we  ought,  of  course,  to  be  joined 
by  a  tunnel,  and  yet  how  different  are  the  two 
races,  and  the  languages. 


CHAPTER  XX 
CHRISTMAS  AND  EDISON 

CHRISTMAS  EVE  of  1912  was  white. 

Seven  or  eight  inches  of  snow  had  fallen  in 
New  York  in  a  few  hours,  and  were  lying  thick 
by  half-past  nine,  when  I  struggled  to  get  over  to 
Orange  to  see  the  world-famous  Thomas  Edison. 
It  was  my  only  chance.  Just  sixty  hours  remained 
before  embarking  for  the  Argentine  and  twenty- 
four  of  those  were  Christmas. 

"Now  or  never,"  I  said  to  myself.  "Snow  or 
no  snow.  It  is  to  be." 

The  greatest  man  in  America  is  probably 
Thomas  Edison.  In  the  line  of  Applied  Science 
he  is  the  greatest  man  of  the  age.  Nobody  made 
such  a  world-wide  reputation  for  his  inventions 
in  the  last  generation  as  this  man  of  Dutch  and 
Scotch  descent,  a  quiet,  unassuming  person,  as  all 
great  workers  are.  Telephones  (which  he  perfected), 
the  phonograph,  and  its  offshoot,  the  gramophone, 
have  entered  palaces  and  cottages ;  from  prince  to 
peasant  everybody  knows  the  inventions  of  Thomas 
Edison.  He  was  the  first  man  to  reproduce 
sound. 

448 


CHRISTMAS  AND  EDISON  449 

Naturally  I  wanted  to  meet  this  representative 
of  Applied  Science ;  and,  hermit  though  he  is, 
he  kindly  acceded  to  my  wish. 

Some  men's  reputations  die  with  them,  others 
are  only  born  after  death.  Edison  has  been  fully 
appreciated  during  his  life,  and  will  be  remembered 
by  posterity. 

"It  will  take  you  an  hour  to  reach  Orange/' 
Mr.  Edison  had  written ;  but  he  had  reckoned 
without  the  snow.  It  took  me  three  hours  before 
I  stood  in  his  library. 

New  York  was  paralysed.  Little  or  no  attempt 
had  been  made  to  tackle  the  snow  fall,  although 
the  Clerk  of  the  Weather  had  predicted  its  advent. 
Great  flakes  darkened  the  air  as  I  came  out  of  a 
Fifth  Avenue  house.  Taxis  there  were  none. 
I  waited  under  falling  sheets  of  snow  at  the  street 
corner  for  that  joyful  "'bus"  in  which  no  one  is 
allowed  to  strap-hang,  and  civilisation  and  peace 
reign  for  fivepence  the  journey.  No  'bus  came. 
Everything  was  hung  up.  After  a  bargain  with 
the  darky  on  the  box  of  a  hansom,  we  started  off 
for  23d  Street  to  catch  the  ferry. 

I  had  been  lent  a  pair  of  rubbers  (goloshes),  at 
which  I  had  rather  scoffed  when  leaving  the  house, 
but  I  soon  found  that  even  "gums"  could  not  keep 
out  the  snow,  which  at  Orange  was  eighteen  inches 
thick,  and  before  I  got  back  to  New  York  in  the 
afternoon,  it  was  piled  three  or  four  feet  deep 


2G 


450  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

in  some  parts  of  the  city,  so  even  wading  boots 
would  have  barely  kept  one  dry. 

What  a  drive  !  Trams  held  up,  motors  in  snow- 
drifts, carts  stuck,  fallen  horses  on  every  side, — 
truly  a  hideous  day.  At  last  we  reached  23d 
Street  Ferry,  only  to  find  there  was  no  chance  of 
catching  the  train  to  Orange  on  the  other  side  of 
the  Hudson.  Even  the  ferry-boat  was  late  be- 
cause of  fog  and  sleet.  It  is  a  horrible  journey  at 
the  best  of  times  to  be  always  catching  ferry- 
boats ;  for  although  two  lines  of  rails  have  tunnel 
connection  with  Manhattan  since  the  century 
began,  those  two  lines  do  not  go  everywhere,  and 
the  ferry  is  still  a  great  factor  in  circulating  the 
traffic. 

Once  on  board  we  plodded  across  through  fog 
and  sleet.  The  boat  was  full,  more  with  parcels 
than  people,  --  because  every  single  person  seemed 
to  be  carrying  a  dozen  Christmas  gifts.  Arrived 
at  Hoboken,  of  course  I  had  to  wait ;  every  con- 
nection was  disconnected,  and  the  sleet  was  cold 
and  dreary. 

Should  I  give  it  up.  Dare  I  go  on,  on  such  a 
day  ? 

Why,  of  course  I  would  go  on.  What  was  present 
discomfort  to  the  likely  pleasures  to  come. 

Half  an  hour  of  train  journey  through  blinding 
snow  in  an  overheated  "day  coach"  landed  me  at 
Orange.  Time  was  getting  on.  I  almost  turned 


CHRISTMAS  AND  EDISON  451 

back,  even  then,  the  day  was  so  terrible,  but  I  hate 
not  to  keep  an  appointment  at  any  time,  more 
especially  when  it  is  with  such  a  busy  man  as 
Edison. 

Carriage  ?  Cab  ?  Taxi  ?  No,  there  was  noth- 
ing. And  what  was  worse,  the  passengers  had  to 
step  into  more  than  a  foot  of  snow  between  the 
train  and  the  road  ;  there  was  no  platform  and  no 
sheltering  roof  where  the  train  stopped  at  Orange, 
New  Jersey. 

An  Irish  bobby  at  the  corner  of  Main  Street 
took  compassion  on  me. 

"It's  a  bit  hard  on  strangers,"  he  said,  "who 
don't  know  their  way  about.  Just  you  stand  in  the 
doorway  of  that  store,  and  when  a  street-car  comes 
along,  I'll  let  you  know  ;  but  they  are  running  very 
irregular." 

Twenty  minutes  passed.  Everyone  was  grum- 
bling ;  not  that  that  was  any  good --the  snow 
merely  smiled,  and  fell  the  faster.  The  street- 
car came  at  last  and  deposited  me  at  the  great 
works.  Mr.  Meadowcroft,  Edison's  assistant,  wel- 
comed me  in  the  large,  airy,  light  library,  where 
photographs  of  old  friends  like  Lord  Kelvin,  Mr. 
Gladstone,  Mr.  Roosevelt,  Huxley,  Baron  Justus 
von  Liebig  (my  godfather),  and  others  smiled 
down  from  the  walls. 

In  the  middle  of  the  room  was  Edison's  desk, 
a  yellow,  pinewood,  ordinary  sort  of  American 


452 


AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 


roll-topped  desk,  with  every  paper  neatly  arranged 
and  scrupulously  pigeonholed.  It  was  such  a  tidy 
desk  for  such  an  erratic  man. 

There  was  nothing  grand,  or  imposing,  or  even 
workmanlike  about  this  library;  many  private 
houses  have  far  finer  ones.  But  tucked  away  in 
one  of  the  alcoves  between  the  bookcases  was  a 
small  trestle  bed  —  a  mighty  simple  sort  of  a  bed, 
a  comfortless  sort  of  arrangement  at  the  best ;  and 
on  this  small  couch  this  giant  among  workers  throws 
himself  when  utterly  worn  out,  and  snatches  an 
hour  or  two  of  sleep. 

In  this  workmanlike  rather  than  beautiful  library 
is  a  model  of  his  concrete-house  scheme.  It  will 
cost  a  fifth  of  the  price  of  ordinary  houses  and  be 
fireproof  and  vermin  proof;  and  will  be  made  in 
an  iron  mould  riveted  together.  In  fact,  two 
tin  jelly  moulds  —  one  inside  the  other  —  will 
give  some  idea  of  the  scheme.  In  this  way  a  dupli- 
cate house  within  a  house,  a  space  of  a  few  inches 
being  left  between  the  two,  will  be  joined  together ; 
bath,  sink,  everything,  including  the  chimneys, 
will  be  on  the  moulds.  Into  this  model  the  con- 
crete will  be  poured  through  the  chimney-stacks. 

"I'll  make  a  concrete  house  in  six  hours,  and 
in  four  or  five  days  it  will  be  dry,  and  you  can 
live  in  it  in  a  week,"  said  Edison  when  I  met  him. 
"Sixty  per  cent  of  the  plant  is  ready,  and  I'm 
going  to  complete  the  rest  shortly.  In  Holland 


CHRISTMAS  AND  EDISON  453 

they  are  already  making  such  houses,  but  they  take 
two  days  about  it/' 

"That  does  not  seem  much  waste  of  time,  when 
one  is  going  to  live  in  it  all  one's  life,"  I  remarked. 

He  laughed. 

"They  will  be  especially  useful  in  industrial 
communities,"  he  continued,  "where  the  frame 
mould  can  be  moved  from  one  site  to  another, 
and  a  whole  town  run  up  quickly." 

Edison  is  more  an  investigator  than  a  scientist. 
He  does  not  come  into  the  sphere  of  pure  scientists 
like  Lord  Kelvin,  Professor  J.  J.  Thomson,  Pro- 
fessor Henry,  or  Sir  William  Ramsay,  —  men  who 
are  all  fully  equipped  with  physics,  mathematics, 
and  chemistry,  —  the  fundamental  knowledge  re- 
quired for  pure  science,  —  but  Edison  is  a  scientific 
investigator,  and  above  all  an  inventor. 

As  a  boy  he  was  a  telegraph  operator.  He  had 
many  weary  hours  of  waiting,  when  he  had  to  be  at 
his  post,  and  yet  had  nothing  to  do  ;  and  he  realised 
that  he  might  go  to  sleep  if  only  he  could  be  sure 
of  waking  up  at  the  right  moment.  He  invented 
an  alarum  clock  to  help  himself,  and  incidentally 
it  has  helped  the  world. 

This  youth  gradually  pushed  himself  forward  till 
to-day  he  is  at  the  head  of  five  thousand  men  and 
has  a  huge  financial  company  behind  his  back.  He 
has  a  whole  chemical  experimental  laboratory, 
wherein  he  produced  his  Edison  storage  battery. 


454  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

He  has  fifteen  high-class  chemists  constantly  at 
work,  and  if  an  investigation  does  not  succeed  :  — 

"Try  it  a  hundred  times  then,  in  different  for- 
mulae, and  bring  me  the  result,"  isf  his  reply.  He 
has  lavishly  squandered  money  in  experiments. 

He  is  himself  all  over  the  place.  He  knows  his 
men  ;  quarrels  with  them,  makes  it  up  again  ;  calls 
them  Tom  or  John  or  Bill,  and  withal  remains 
just  the  same  simple  man  as  ever. 

Having  seen  the  library  and  peeped  at  the  shops, 
where  thousands  of  men  were  just  going  off  to 
their  dinners,  we  went  up  some  queer  back  stairs 
to  a  sort  of  factory  at  the  top  of  the  house.  In 
the  outer  hall  various  young  mechanics  were 
working  at  gramophones.  Several  songs  were 
going  on  at  the  same  time,  so  the  sound  was  some- 
what discordant. 

In  a  smaller  room  beyond  stood  an  ordinary 
mahogany-enclosed  gramophone.  Bending  over  it 
was  a  young  man  attending  to  the  cylinders,  while 
an  elderly  one  sat  on  a  common  wooden  chair  beside 
it.  The  latter  was  holding  his  right  hand  to  his 
ear,  which  was  circled  by  his  thumb  and  first  finger, 
while  the  little  finger  was  against  the  wood  of  the 
gramophone.  The  reason  of  this  was  to  help 
transmit  the  sound  to  the  ear. 

He  did  not  hear  us  enter ;  he  was  intent  on 
the  song  and  kept  his  head  closely  glued  to  the 
machine. 


CHRISTMAS  AND  EDISON  455 

At  the  end  of  the  verse  the  grey-headed  man 
straightened  himself:  — 

"Rotten,  rotten  !"  he  exclaimed. 

This  was  Thomas  Edison,  and  he  was  trying  to 
get  rid  of  the  buzzing  sound  in  gramophones. 

A  man  of  medium  height,  quietly  dressed  in  a  blue 
serge  suit.  His  eyes  are  blue,  cheery,  hopeful, 
and  at  moments  thoughtful ;  they  are  his  most 
characteristic  point,  and  he  has  a  fresh  complexion 
with  long  unruly  grey,  in  fact  almost  white,  hair. 

Edison  has  not  such  a  fine  head  as  Hiram  Maxim, 
Ibsen,  Bjornson,  or  Savonoff,  but  he  has  the  same 
blunted  tops  to  his  fingers  that  I  have  so  often 
noticed  in  inventors.  He  is  not  commanding  in 
appearance.  He  is,  in  fact,  a  kindly,  clever,  easy- 
mannered  man  who  would  not  excite  curiosity  in 
any  way.  Although  so  absorbed  by  work,  he  is  not 
one-sided,  as  I  soon  learnt ;  he  reads  his  paper 
with  avidity,  and  has  positive  ideas  on  the  busy 
questions  of  the  day.  So  Edison  is  a  man  of 
parts  as  well  as  of  concentration. 

Edison  did  not  look  his  age,  viz.  sixty-six 
(born  1847).  He  looked  ten  years  younger  than 
that,  and  when  asked  how  he  was,  he  danced  round 
like  a  boy  and  replied,  "Splendid,"  and  brightly 
remarked  he  might  think  of  retiring  at  ninety. 

He  has  a  frank  smile  and  cheerful  manner 
when  he  comes  down  to  earth ;  more  often  he 
lives  in  the  clouds. 


456  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

And  why  his  ear  so  close  to  the  gramophone  ? 
Ah,  why  ?  Because  like  another  great  American  — 
the  late  Horace  Howard  Furness  —  he  is  very  deaf. 
He  does  not  hear  one  word  that  is  not  spoken 
right  into  his  ear.  This  may  be  a  blessing 
in  disguise,  as  it  enables  him  to  concentrate  his 
thoughts  without  outside  distraction. 

"I  saw  photos  of  many  old  friends  in  your 
library,"  I  said.  "Lord  Kelvin—" 

He  laughed. 

"Poor  Kelvin.  The  last  time  he  stayed  with 
me  he  had  toothache  ;  it  refused  to  go,  so  he  took  to 
champagne." 

"By  whose  prescription  ?" 

"Oh,  his  own.  I  never  drink  anything  ;  but  we 
keep  stuff  up  at  the  house  for  those  who  do,  and 
Kelvin  cured  his  toothache  by  my  champagne." 

"Have  you  no  vices  ?"    I  laughed. 

"  I  smoke." 

Edison  has  always  been  an  amazing  worker. 
Twenty  hours  on  end  day  after  day  do  not  wear 
him  out,  and  he  has  been  known  to  go  for  sixty 
hours  without  sleep. 

In  1911,  when  he  was  deeply  interested  in  his 
disc  phonograph,  he  actually  worked  straight  on  end 
for  six  weeks.  His  house  was  barely  seven  minutes 
away  by  motor,  and  yet  he  only  went  home  four 
times  during  that  period  just  to  bring  back  a 
fresh  supply  of  clothing,  and  to  see  his  family ; 


CHRISTMAS  AND  EDISON  457 

and  he  seldom  slept  more  than  two  hours  in  the 
twenty-four.  His  men  had  to  work  in  relays, 
but  he  never  relaxed  himself. 

Mrs.  Edison  tries  to  insist  that  he  should  go  home 
every  day  to  his  meals  ;  but  when  he  is  absorbed, 
he  cannot  be  dragged  from  his  work.  His  assistants 
take  in  trays  of  food,  but  if  they  leave  them  beside 
him,  there  they  remain  ;  so  he  has  to  be  stood  over 
and  cajoled,  and  coaxed  to  eat,  and  watched 
like  a  child. 

"  He's  a  devil  to  work,"  said  one  of  his  men. 

He  has  two  boys  by  his  second  marriage ;  the 
elder  is  at  college.  The  second  boy,  who  is  seven 
years  younger,  bears  an  exact  physical  resemblance 
to  Edison. 

When  the  great  inventor  starts  his  night  seances, 
poor  Mrs.  Edison  is  informed  by  telephone  that 
"he  is  so  busy  she  must  not  expect  him,"  and  it  is 
quite  a  business  to  manage  for  people  to  be  about 
all  night  "accidentally  on  purpose,"  so  that  he 
should  not  be  left  alone.  He  would  like  to  be 
alone  —  and  he  often  imagines  he  is  alone  — 
and  so  he  is,  but  someone  is  near,  generally  two  or 
three  of  them,  so  that  they  may  be  on  the  spot  if 
they  are  wanted. 

Edison  has  amazing  physique  or  he  could  not 
work  as  he  does,  and  he  has  an  amazing  brain  or 
he  could  never  have  perfected  so  many  inventive 
achievements.  His  Battery  and  Cement  Houses 


45  8  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  FI 

are  his  hobbies,  and  the  Phonograph  has  kept  up 
the  funds.  He  has  practically  remade  the  phono- 
graph and  has  now  remade  the  gramophone,  his 
experiments  and  betterments  have  been  so  in- 
cessant. His  results  are  attained  he  says  :- 

"By  one  per  cent  inspiration  and  ninety-nine 
per  cent  perspiration." 

No  detail  is  too  trivial  for  his  attention. 

The  Kinetophone  is  his  latest  babe.  It  is  a 
machine  which  allows  moving  pictures  (cinemato- 
graph) and  human  voices  (gramophone)  to  be 
used  together,  veritably  a  talking-motion-picture. 
It  is  the  outcome  of  twenty-six  years'  work. 

No  one  has  any  right  to  say  anything  is  impos- 
sible in  these  days.  Science  is  standing  the  round 
world  firmly  on  its  basis. 

How  strange  it  is  that  this  deaf  man  should  have 
made  the  most  far-reaching  contribution  to  univer- 
sal music  of  anyone  in  the  world,  and  yet  he  is  no 
musician.  He  likes  a  tune,  but  he  does  not  under- 
stand classical  music.  W.  S.  Gilbert  was  the 
same.  He  wrote  his  "book"  and  Sullivan  added 
the  music.  Gilbert's  lines  were  full  of  inspiration, 
full  of  musical  cadence  as  well  as  permeated  with 
his  own  particular  kind  of  wit ;  but  W.  S.  Gilbert 
was  no  musician  and  could  not  have  written  a  bar 
for  himself  any  more  than  Edison  can.  Yet  both 
men  have  helped  so  materially  to  the  universal 
enjoyment  of  music  throughout  the  world. 


CHRISTMAS  AND  EDISON  459 

Edison  was  very  chatty  and  pleasant  and  friendly, 
and  signed  a  large  photograph  on  which  he  wrote 
the  date  (after  inquiry)  in  a  clear  round  hand. 

"I  was  once  an  office  boy,  and  then  it  was  I 
learnt  how  to  write  so  that  people  can  read  it. 
Pity  everyone  doesn't  write  distinctly,  eh  ?"  he 
said  as  he  blotted  the  card. 

Every  scientist  is  necessarily  a  philanthropist, 
or  he  could  not  go  on.  Our  Government  pays 
more  money  yearly  for  note  paper  than  in  the 
encouragement  of  science. 

New  York  under  such  winter  snow  is  a 
pitiable  sight.  I  never  saw  so  many  horses 
down  in  one  day  in  my  life  ;  they  lay  about  in  every 
street.  On  my  return  in  the  afternoon  there  was 
no  foot  road  at  all ;  motors  were  skidding  every- 
where ;  others  were  held  up  in  snow  heaps.  Large 
trucks  had  stuck,  and  the  horses  could  not  get  them 
started  again  ;  in  fact,  New  York  was  snow-bound, 
and  traffic  was  delayed  in  an  appalling  manner. 
Even  my  dear  Fifth  Avenue  'bus  which  I  caught 
on  my  return  became  a  veritable  torture.  I  am 
not  a  nervous  person ;  but  never,  never,  shall  I 
forget  that  drive ;  generally,  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
is  sufficient  to  return  from  the  ferry  to  54th  Street, 
but  we  were  five  quarters  of  an  hour.  We  swerved, 
we  swayed,  we  jumped  over  snow-hillocks  till 
the  passengers  could  hardly  keep  their  seats, 


460  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

and  the  'bus  itself  could  barely  keep  on  the  road ; 
we  wondered  how  the  springs  could  stand  it. 
Seldom  has  a  drive  been  more  exciting.  All 
the  traffic  was  skidding,  and  it  was  mere  luck 
that  there  were  not  more  accidents  than  there 
really  were. 

And  this  was  Christmas  Eve — the  greatest  day 
of  the  year  in  America  after  Thanksgiving. 

Such  snowon  such  a  day  was  a  veritable  calamity. 

In  the  morning  everybody  seemed  to  be  carrying 
parcels ;  but  in  the  evening,  when  New  York 
traffic  was  in  a  worse  muddle,  every  man  and 
woman  seemed  to  be  literally  laden  with  packages. 

What  a  Christmas  Eve  ! 

Monday  is  the  fashionable  day  at  the  New  York 
Opera  House,  and  the  night  before  being  a  Monday, 
I  had  been  taken  to  hear  the  American  singer, 
Madame  Farrar  in  Madame  Butterfly.  She  was 
excellent  in  the  last  two  acts,  but  still  a  poor  con- 
trast to  that  greatest  of  all  present-day  artists, 
Madame  Destinn. 

It  was  very  interesting  to  watch  the  conductor 
going  through  that  opera  as  he  does  every  other 
opera,  without  any  score.  A  singer  has  only  his 
own  part  to  memorise  ;  but  for  one  man  to  memo- 
rise several  dozen  entire  operas,  in  which  he  is 
responsible  to  the  fifty  or  sixty  performers  in  the 
orchestra,  and  many  more  on  the  stage,  is  an 


CHRISTMAS  AND  EDISON  461 

achievement.  A  thin  white  baton  is  his  medium. 
In  this  he  is  unlike  the  leonine  personage, 
Savonoff,  the  Russian,  who  uses  no  baton  of  any 
kind,  merely  his  hands. 

The  Metropolitan  Opera  House  is  fine.  It  is 
not  as  beautiful  as  the  one  in  Paris,  nor  so  magnifi- 
cent as  the  one  in  Buenos  Ayres,  nor  so  secluded  as 
Covent  Garden,  where  the  boxes  and  their  curtains 
form  a  dark,  strong,  if  somewhat  dingy  background 
for  our  aristocracy  and  their  diamond  tiaras.  In 
New  York  the  boxes  stand  right  forward  till  they 
appear  like  one  continuous  dress-circle.  Every- 
one there  and  everything  worn  shows  in  that 
coveted  "Horseshoe,"  the  hall-mark  of  social 
success.  Stop,  there  is  another  stamp  of  success, 
not  so  select  but  still  very  important,  and  that  is 
to  find  one's  name  in  "The  New  York  Social 
Register." 

There  were  plenty  of  beautiful  women  in  the 
audience.  Two  persons  in  every  three  seemed  to 
be  Jewish,  and  many  spoke  broken  English,  but 
they  wore  expensive  clothes  and  rolled  away  in 
fine  motors. 

It  was  cold  but  fine  that  night  at  half-past 
eleven  when  we  left  the  Opera  House.  By  one 
o'clock  snow  fell,  and  Christmas  Eve  was  ushered 
in  by  a  thick  mist  of  falling  crystals  that  covered 
New  York  with  nearly  two  feet  of  snow. 

Christmas  in  New  York  is  a  little  different  from 


462  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

Christmas  in  England.  I  remember  a  delightful 
tea-party  a  few  days  before  given  by  Kate  Doug- 
las Wiggin.  There  were  various  wreaths,  green 
wreaths,  with  red  bows  ornamenting  her  drawing- 
room.  I  thought  they  were  the  offerings  of  ad- 
miring friends  for  her  play  "Rebecca,"  but  they 
were  nothing  of  the  kind ;  they  were  Christmas 
wreaths. 

While  we  festoon  the  homes  of  England  with 
garlands,  America  decorates  them  with  wreaths. 
This  idea  of  green  decoration  is  to  be  seen  in  the 
windows  of  the  Clubs  on  Fifth  Avenue.  Each 
large  pane  has  a  wreath  made  of  holly,  mistletoe, 
ground  pine,  or  bay  leaves  about  eighteen  inches 
across  flattened  against  it,  and  ornamented  with  a 
red  ribbon  bow.  They  look  like  funeral  wreaths 
and  are  yet  to  commemorate  the  Birth  of  Christ 
—  Nativity,  not  Death. 

Another  Christmas  custom,  but,  thank  Heaven, 
not  an  English  one,  for  it  comes  from  the  more 
southern  climes  of  Italy,  is  the  crippled  beggar. 
For  a  week  before  Christmas  these  people  are 
allowed  upon  the  New  York  streets  to  clamour 
for  alms. 

Christmas  is  a  season  when  everyone  spends 
time  and  money  buying  things  nobody  else  wants. 
New  Yorkers  do  not  seem  to  evince  much 
foresight  in  their  shopping ;  they  wait  until  the 
very  last  day,  which,  of  course,  puts  an  extra 


CHRISTMAS  AND  EDISON  463 

strain  upon  the  shop  people  ;  and  then  they  seek 
what  they  want  at  overcrowded  counters  in  stores 
overheated  with  perspiring,  struggling  humanity, 
and  say :  — 

"What  a  hustle  Life  is." 

It  need  not  be,  but  it  often  is  where  there  is  no 
organisation. 

The  States  is  a  tremendous  place  for  giving. 
It  is  bad  enough  with  us,  but  really  it  seemed  to 
be  fifty  per  cent  worse  in  New  York,  where  the  giv- 
ing mania  is  a  veritable  disease.  To  control  and 
do  away  with  this  somewhat  ruinous  generosity, 
Miss  Anne  Morgan,  daughter  of  Mr.  J.  Pier- 
pont  Morgan,  organised  what  is  known  as  the 
Society  for  the  Prevention  of  Useless  Giving,  or 
more  popularly  the  "  Spugs  "  (a  word  formed  by 
the  initial  letters  of  the  chief  words  in  the  title). 
In  former  years  many  of  the  shop-workers  and 
shop-girls  were  often  seriously  involved  in  debt 
for  months,  by  the  necessity  of  gifts  to  those  in 
more  exalted  positions  in  their  places  of  business. 
It  was  to  assist  and  protect  these  classes  that  the 
"Spugs"  first  banded  together.  The  good  effect 
of  this  Society  was  already  proved  in  the  first 
year  of  its  existence,  Christmas, —  1912. 

The  large  stores  in  the  States  are  open  on  Satur- 
day afternoons  just  the  same  as  any  other  day 
during  the  winter  months.  In  this  land  of  inde- 
pendence, where  the  work-people  are  supposed 


464  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

to  be  so  much  better  off,  they  never  have  half- 
holidays  (that  is,  in  the  shops)  except  during 
three  months  in  the  year,  and  on  Saturdays  work 
just  the  same  as  any  other  day.  In  England, 
the  working-classes  get  one  afternoon  a  week  off. 
If,  as  is  the  case  in  the  poorer  districts,  or  country 
villages,  they  are  open  on  Saturday  night  for  the 
benefit  of  the  wage-earner,  then  they  get  Wednes- 
day or  Thursday.  We  have  four  Bank  Holidays 
a  year,  which  always  fall  on  a  Monday.  This 
means  the  shop  people,  bank  clerks,  and  so  on 
are  free  from  one  o'clock  on  Saturday  until  the 
following  Tuesday  morning.  Such  a  thing  is  un- 
known in  America  (except  Labour  Day).  On  the 
whole,  the  British  working  men  and  women  are 
better  off  in  this  respect  than  are  their  American 
neighbours. 

America  is  the  land  of  democracy  in  theory. 
England  is  the  land  of  democracy  in  practice. 

It  was  the  most  ideally  Christmassy  Christmas 
Day  I  ever  remember. 

Yonkers  on  the  Hudson  wore  a  white  garb 
of  snow,  a  solid  foot  and  a  half  thick.  The  trees 
were  weighed  down  with  it.  It  might  have  been 
Canada  or  Norway  as  the  mist  of  early  morning 
cleared  away  and  the  sun  rose.  Then  as  the  atmos- 
phere grew  warmer  and  warmer,  huge  hunks  of 
snow  fell  from  the  trees ;  not  a  breath  of  wind 


CHRISTMAS  AND  EDISON  465 

stirred  the  air.  Warmth  permeated  the  atmos- 
phere. Blue  shadows  fell  upon  the  ground.  For 
miles  one  looked  upon  the  snow-clad  landscape 
gradually  unfurling  from  white  to  green  and  brown, 
when  the  heat  of  the  sun's  rays  uncovered  the  ever- 
greens, the  hollies,  and  the  elms,  the  poplars,  or 
the  ash. 

Not  a  sound  stirred  the  air  but  the  swish,  swish 
of  the  snow  as  it  fell  from  the  branches.  The  very 
birds,  except  an  occasional  crow,  seemed  to  sleep 
in  the  calm  peace  of  that  Christmas  morn  on  the 
banks  of  the  fine  Hudson  River.  It  was  only  the 
third  time  in  all  my  life  I  had  spent  Christmas 
away  from  my  mother  and  my  home  —  once  at 
school  in  Germany,  once  in  Mexico  when  writing 
a  book,  and  now  in  the  United  States. 

It  was  the  anniversary  of  the  Birth  of  Christ. 

It  was  the  opening  of  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
days  I  can  remember.  It  was  the  true  Dickensian 
Christmas.  Such  a  contrast  to  the  horrors  of 
the  storm  of  the  day  before. 

The  Christmas  Tree  had  been  lighted  the 
previous  evening  about  half-past  six,  so  that  the 
babies  might  enjoy  their  toys  and  a  game  before 
they  went  to  bed. 

It  was  a  beautiful  house,  full  of  artistic  treasures 
from  many  lands  ;  fine  French  tapestries,  portraits 
by  Shannon,  sculpture,  beautiful  cabinets,  endless 


2H 


466  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

objets  (Tart,  and  to  make  it  appear  "  Christmassy," 
the  Scotch  gardener  had  decorated  the  oak-panelled 
hall  with  evergreens,  from  which  fringes  of  smilax 
fell,  and  a  hundred  or  more  scarlet  poinsettias 
gave  a  brilliant  note  of  colour  to  the  whole. 

That  decoration  was  a  triumph  of  floral  art.  The 
big  Italian  marble  font  in  the  middle  of  the  hall 
added  to  the  general  effect,  of  course ;  the  quaint 
candelabra  gave  brilliancy  to  the  scheme.  It 
was  all  so  refined,  so  artistic,  so  beautiful,  so  in 
keeping  with  the  gracious  dainty  chatelaine  and 
her  clever  husband. 

The  tree  was  a  real  English  tree,  or  —  more 
properly  speaking  —  a  German  one.  And  yet 
this  one  was  novel,  novel  to  me  anyway  ;  all  along 
its  big  branches  were  flowers  and  birds,  roses  of 
every  hue,  canaries,  red-breasted  dicky-birds  (prob- 
ably robins),  and  each  of  these  contained  an  electric 
light.  A  fire-lit  tree  without  danger  was  a  novelty, 
and  the  effect  was  charming. 

While  we  were  enjoying  the  wonders  of  that 
beautiful  home,  and  gazing  at  the  sunset  on 
the  Palisades  across  the  Hudson,  the  poor  of  New 
York  were  being  entertained  in  Madison  Square 
Park  by  a  public  Christmas  tree.  It  was  a  pretty 
idea.  Mrs.  Herreshoff,  who  conceived  it,  felt  that 
many  people  in  that  vast  city  were  homeless  and 
lonely,  and  did  not  even  know  what  a  Christmas 
tree  looked  like ;  consequently,  she  ordered  the 


CHRISTMAS  AND  EDISON  467 

biggest  possible  fir  tree,  and  on  Christmas  Eve 
the  ceremony  started. 

At  the  trumpet  call  from  "Parsifal,"  the  large 
Star  of  Bethlehem  on  the  topmost  pinnacle  of  the 
tree  commenced  to  glow,  getting  brighter  and 
brighter  until,  one  by  one,  myriad-coloured  lights 
began  to  appear  upon  the  branches  below  until  the 
tree  was  a  blaze  of  glory.  With  the  lighting  of 
the  tree  itself,  a  huge  chorus  of  mixed  voices  burst 
forth,  singing  the  hymn  "Holy  Night,"  and  from 
half-past  five  until  midnight,  band  music,  choruses, 
and  songs  continued  to  do  honour  to  Christmas 
Day. 

Masses  of  people  enjoyed  the  sight.  Amongst 
them  were  many  of  the  city's  very  poorest  who 
went  to  see  this  wondrous  show  ;  the  sort  of  thing 
some  of  them  had  dreamed  of,  but  never  realised 
before,  and  there  also  were  the  rich,  who  came 
merely  out  of  curiosity  to  see  the  people's  enjoy- 
ment. Madison  Square,  in  the  heart  of  New  York, 
is  the  loneliest  place  in  all  Manhattan ;  on  an  or- 
dinary night  there  is  nothing  there  but  loneliness. 

The  City  of  London,  and  Wall  Street,  New  York, 
are  two  of  the  noisiest,  busiest  places  in  the  world, 
and  yet  few  people  realize  that  at  midnight,  no 
country  village  is  more  deserted  or  more  silent. 


CHAPTER  XXI 
WHAT  is  IT  ALL  ABOUT  ? 

AND  after  all,  the  writer  asks  herself:  "What  is 
it  all  about  ?" 

Is  this  jumble  of  impressions  of  any  value,  is  it 
amusing  or  instructive,  or  is  it  all  just  so  many 
wasted  words  and  hours  ? 

What  is  it  all  about  ? 

Well,  it  is  merely  the  lightest  possible  summary 
of  one  of  the  greatest  possible  problems  of  the  day. 
Just  a  woman's  impressions  of  a  vast  country  and 
a  vast  people,  steering  a  great  huge  ship,  manned 
by  many  nationalities,  out  of  a  sea  of  prejudices 
and  conventionalities  —  steering  her  for  a  harbour 
of  her  own  making. 

America  is  no  man's  land,  and  it  is  every  man's 
land.  America  represents  nothing,  and  America 
represents  everything. 

America  is  a  tangled  skein  of  possibilities. 

The  old  English  blood  is  being  swamped  by  the 
foreigner. 

The  African  nigger  is  multiplying. 

The  cities  are  increasing  at  an  alarming  rate. 

The  land  is  still  crying  for  cultivation.  There  is 
a  scarcity  of  cheap  labour. 

468 


WHAT  IS  IT  ALL  ABOUT?  469 

There  are  manufactories  without  workmen. 

There  is  a  surplus  of  general  wealth ;  but  there 
are  few  millionaires  of  sovereign  value. 

A  political  experiment  is  still  in  the  making.  A 
diplomatic  school  has  barely  begun. 

Some  ships  —  the  Great  Eastern,  for  example  — 
have  been  found  too  large  and  awkward  to  handle 
in  the  sea,  while  small  frigates  have  proved  more 
useful. 

Will  America  break  up  in  chunks,  or  go  on  adding 
new  countries  unto  herself  ? 

Who  can  tell  ? 

But  the  one  thing  on  which  the  whole  country  is 
agreed  at  the  present  moment  is  its  own  value; 
its  own  greatness,  and  the  far-reaching  importance 
of  its  own  flag. 

The  size  of  America  is  what  amazes  one.  Its 
vastness,  its  great  lakes  which  are  huge  inland  seas  ; 
its  gigantic  waterways  ;  its  mountains  ;  in  fact,  its 
colossal  size  and  immense  population,  not  immense 
for  its  area,  for  it  is  sparsely  populated,  but  numeri- 
cally immense,  nearly  one  hundred  millions  is 
stupendous.  All  these  are  big  words,  adjectival 
exuberance,  perhaps ;  but  it  is  the  vastness  that 
amazes  the  stranger. 

When  every  man  and  woman  is  a  college 
graduate,  what  will  become  of  the  world  gen- 
erally ? 

Will  the  man  at  the  linotype  machine  write 


470  AMERICA  AS  I   SAW  IT 

his  leading  articles  on  classics  direct  on  the 
lead  ? 

Will  the  dressmaker  discuss  the  lines  of  the  Greek 
goddesses,  and  insist  on  a  large  neck  because  Venus 
of  Milo  had  one  ? 

Will  the  chauffeur  compare  his  car  with  the 
chariot  of  Athens  ? 

Will  the  chef  wonder  whether  his  sheep's  tongues 
are  as  good  as  the  peacocks'  tongues  served  to  the 
Emperors  of  Rome  ? 

Will  the  lady  who  wears  false  pearls  compare  her 
wondrous  gems  to  the  pearls  in  the  vase  of  Cleo- 
patra ? 

Will  the  umbrella-maker  discourse  glibly  of  the 
early  head-coverings  of  China,  and  talk  Marco 
Polo  to  his  confreres? 

Will  the  druggist  deal  in  potions  as  the  magicians 
of  Catherine  of  Medici,  and  talk  history  ? 

Or  will  the  world  be  so  highly  educated  that 
everyone  will  specialise,  and  become  mere  automa- 
tons along  his  or  her  own  lines,  until  their  brains 
are  atrophied,  and  they  are  glad  to  go  back  to  the 
position  from  which  they  came,  and  everyone  finds 
his  own  level  again  ? 

Education  in  the  wrong  place  is  far  worse  than 
no  education  at  all.  Everyone  is  not  capable  of 
being  educated  satisfactorily  to  himself  or  to  the 
world,  and  many  brains  become  more  addled  than 
when  they  started. 


WHAT  IS   IT  ALL  ABOUT?  471 

That  unrest  which  is  the  result  of  indiscreet 
education,  which  teaches  every  Jack  that  he  is 
better  than  his  master,  is  being  felt  in  the  States. 
The  education  there  is  as  good  (or  as  bad)  as  in 
Germany.  The  result  in  Germany  is  socialism, 
which  is,  however,  held  in  check  by  a  strong  hand. 
In  America  this  is  coming.  It  is  beginning  to  as- 
sert itself  by  a  memorable  struggle  of  the  unlettered 
classes.  Who  is  going  to  control  that  with  an 
ever  changing  government  ? 

We  —  we  people  of  the  middle  class  —  are  all 
subservient  to  someone.  I  am  a  worm  in  the 
hands  of  the  editors,  the  publishers,  and  the  public. 
We  must  of  necessity  be  so  ;  every  man  must  have 
someone  over  him  :  - 

"Order  is  Heaven's  first  law,  and  this  confest 
Some  are,  and  must  be,  greater  than  the  rest." 

In  America  every  man  thinks  himself  better  than 
his  master,  and  says  so  with  no  unblushing  in- 
ference of  manner. 

The  United  States  has  three  dangers,  —  outside 
elements,  as  it  were  :- 

(1)  The  Negro,  who  is  of  lower  intelligence,  and 
has  heretofore  been  controlled ;  but  numbers  and 
education  are  strengthening  his  position. 

(2)  The  Roman  Catholic,  who,   when    powerful 
enough,  controls  countries  and  throttles  individual- 
ism ;  both  policies  antagonistic  to  the  American 
cult. 


472  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

(3)  The  Jew  has  wonderful  acquisitive  talent, 
and  is  really  gifted  in  all  the  arts ;  but  he  has  yet 
to  win  his  social  footing  in  the  States.  Personally 
I  like  Jews,  and  appreciate  their  great  intellectual 
gifts.  In  fifty  years  they  have  entered  America 
in  millions  and  their  numbers  and  their  wealth 
are  increasing  hourly. 

Any  custom  that  becomes  a  habit  may  develop 
into  a  curse.  There  are  men  in  business  who  are 
so  involved  in  business  they  cannot  leave  it. 
Younger  partners  and  employees  are  dependent  on 
them  ;  they  have  made  enough  money  themselves, 
but  the  moral  sense  of  duty  to  the  men  who  have 
helped  them  to  climb,  coupled  with  the  thraldom 
of  the  business  habit,  makes  them  neglect  every 
human  amusement  and  instinct. 

"I  can't  leave  my  business,"  one  hears  again  and 
again  ;  "the  only  thing  I  love  is  yachting  or  shoot- 
ing (or  whatever  the  case  may  be),  but  it  comes  at 
our  busy  season,  and  so  I  have  to  do  without  it." 

All  this  is  a  pity.  Let  the  successful  business  man 
give  his  juniors  a  chance.  Let  him  take  his  three 
months'  holiday  at  the  busiest  season  of  the  year. 
Those  juniors  may  make  mistakes,  there  may  even 
be  a  deficit.  Well,  let  the  business  man  replace 
the  two  or  three  thousand  pounds  deficit  so  that 
none  may  suffer,  and  let  him  look  upon  it  as  so 
much  paid  for  his  own  holiday. 


WHAT  IS  IT  ALL  ABOUT?  473 

The  juniors  have  bought  their  experience,  and 
are  not  likely  to  repeat  the  mistakes. 

The  "  Boss"  will  have  learnt  to  be  human,  learnt 
to  enjoy  life  outside  himself  before  it  is  too  late,  and 
done  much  to  make  a  happier  future  for  everyone 
concerned  at  the  expense  of  a  little  money,  which, 
with  his  accumulated  fortune,  is  cheap  at  the 
price. 

We  are  all  apt  to  think  ourselves  indispensable ; 
others  can  generally  fill  our  place  provided  the  op- 
portunity offers,  and  they  have  a  little  pluck  and 
initiative. 

A  dead  man's  shoes  are  soon  filled. 

A  living  man  wears  his  shoes  far  longer  if  he 
sometimes  puts  on  his  slippers. 

Nothing  short  of  a  surgical  operation  amputates 
some  men  from  their  office. 

In  the  first  chapter  the  writer  asked  :- 

"Why  do  Americans  resent  all  criticism  ?" 

It  is  a  well-known  fact  that  while  we  will  allow  a 
friend,  almost  a  stranger,  to  say,  "I  don't  like  that 
hat,"  and  may  even  change  it  to  please  them,  we 
become  perfectly  furious  when  a  near  relative,  a 
brother  or  a  sister,  exclaims,  "I  don't  like  that 
hat!" 

We  purse  up  our  lips  and  reply :  — 

"It  is  no  business  of  yours." 

Change  it  we  won't,  and  we  don't. 

England  and  America  are  much  the  same.     We 


474  AMERICA  AS  I  SAW  IT 

are  brothers  and  sisters  ;  the  one,  being  aggressively 
young,  resents  criticism  and  comparison  ;  the  other 
is  perhaps  inclined,  from  being  older  and  having 
knocked  about  the  world,  to  assume  an  attitude  of 
superiority. 

Both  are  wrong.  Even  when  we  resent  criticism, 
we  are  often  wise  to  weigh  it  carefully,  and  use  it 
discreetly. 

The  American  hates  British  "ragging,"  and  can- 
not understand  British  jokes,  while  we  often  fail 
to  see  the  subtlety  of  American  humour.  The 
humour  of  each  country  is  totally  different.  It 
cannot  be  compared. 

Instead  of  saying  to  anyone,  "You  are  wrong," 
it  is,  of  course,  more  tactful  to  ask,  "  Do  you  think 
you  are  right  ?"  Only  it  takes  longer. 

A  delightful  American  exclaimed,  "We  don't 
resent  criticism,  although  we  don't  always  like  it ; 
but  we  do  resent  the  spirit  in  which  it  is  made." 

"Why  ?" 

He  didn't  know  why;  unless  it  was  that  no 
country  and  no  people  have  the  right  to  criticise 
another. 

If  we  only  did  what  was  right  in  the  eyes  of  this 
world,  we  should  do  nothing.  Neither  in  an  in- 
dividual nor  a  nation  can  one  expect  consistency. 
We  are  all  growing  more  material  and  selfish  every 
day.  Oh  —  for  the  resuscitation  of  ideals  ! 

The  destiny  of  the  race  is,  or  should  be,  the 


WHAT  IS  IT  ALL  ABOUT?  475 

American  ideal.     The  country  is  working  out  its 
own  civilisation. 

The  unfortunate  writer  has  probably  heaped  a 
blazing  furnace  upon  her  head  by  daring  to  joke  or 
compare,  or  to  admire  (even  admiration  is  resented 
sometimes)  a  people  she  likes  and  esteems,  and  calls 
her  friends,  and  hopes  to  embrace  yet  more  warmly. 
If  the  public  or  the  press  do  not  accept  her  kind- 
liness of  spirit,  she  will  be  more  than  ever  con- 
vinced that  — 

HYPERSENSITIVENESS  is  THE  AMERICAN  SIN. 


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American  Ideals  :  Character  and  Life 

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The  Soul  of  America 

BY  STANTON  COIT 

Chairman  of  the  West  London  Ethical  Society,  formerly  Head  Worker  of 

the  New  York  University  Settlement,  and  author  of  "  The  Message 

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This  book  is  due  on  the  lost  DATE  stamped  below. 


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